


Better the Instruction

by Celandine



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Angst, Bondage, Dirty Talk, Drama, First Time, Frottage, Incest, M/M, Masturbation, Rimming, Romance, Sex Toys, Smut, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-04
Updated: 2008-12-29
Packaged: 2017-10-12 04:19:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 186,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/120699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celandine/pseuds/Celandine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Teddy Lupin, uncertain of his own sexuality, discovers that his father is queer. He persuades a reluctantly intrigued Remus to teach him about sex, although Remus is involved in an increasingly serious relationship of his own. Chapter 1: Teddy never expected to walk in on his father with another man. He <em>certainly</em> never expected to have this reaction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is AU: Remus survived the Battle of Hogwarts, although Tonks did not. Otherwise canon- and epilogue-compliant. The title is taken from Shakespeare's _The Merchant of Venice_ , act iii, sc. i, l. 23: Shylock: "The villany you teach me I will execute, and it shall go hard, but I will better the instruction."

Teddy leaned against his bedroom door, fumbling behind him with one hand for the lock. The other was pressed against his crotch where his cock pounded demandingly. His mind kept replaying the scene in the living room--to his chagrin, for each time he thought of it another wave of heat swept through him. _Fuck._ With the door secured, he shoved down his jeans and pants in a tangle and fell across the bed.

It wasn't as if he hadn't seen two men together before. Well, strictly speaking he hadn't _seen_ two men together, except in magazines, but he'd _been_ one of them, so that counted, right? But he hadn't done... _that_ , only heard dirty whispers about it. But now he'd seen it, seen his father with his tongue in another bloke's arse, and both of them moaning and plainly enjoying it, and fuck but that wasn't supposed to get him hot, not _seeing his father_ , but it was. Teddy whimpered and wrapped his hand around his cock, not even sure if he was doing it to hold himself back or get himself off, but he couldn't stop thinking about how it must feel to be spread open and licked and... god, he was doomed, he was coming by thinking about his dad, _fuck fuck fuck_.

He choked back a groan as he came and squeezed his eyes shut tightly. _Fuck._ Oh, god, this was _not good_. He fumbled for his wand and vanished the mess he'd made on his rumpled duvet--it took three tries, his hand was shaking so badly--and did up his jeans, nearly catching his skin in the metal teeth of the zipper in his haste.

He could hear murmurs downstairs, then the sound of the front door closing. He sat cross-legged on his bed and buried his head in his hands and prayed that his father had left, but when he heard the heavy footsteps on the stairs, he knew--oh, he'd known all along--that he had hoped in vain. His father knew he was there, had _seen_ him--Teddy kept recalling over and over the moment when their eyes had met--and now they were going to have to talk.

Teddy listened as his father's footsteps moved down the hall and stopped in front of his door. There was an infinite pause, then, before Remus knocked.

Briefly, Teddy considered curling into a ball and pretending he wasn't there, but instead, after a moment, he ran his hands through his hair, cleared his throat, and somehow managed to tell his father to come in.

"I didn't expect you tonight," Remus said. His cheeks were flushed and his ever-present cardigan was buttoned one button off. Teddy counted the buttons from top to bottom--one, two, three, four, five--trying not to notice the bulge in Remus's trousers that was not quite hidden by the loosely hanging wool. "I thought you were coming by tomorrow?"

Teddy shrugged. "Nothing to eat in the flat. I didn't think you'd mind."

"Look, Teddy..." Remus paused, swallowed, started again. "Can I sit down?"

There was nowhere to sit except the bed. Teddy nodded, scooting back, not trusting himself too close to his father just now.

"I imagine you're a bit upset with me," said Remus carefully.

"You never said you were, uh, queer." The blood was hot in Teddy's cheeks and he still couldn't look Remus in the face. "I mean, Mum... and you never saw anyone that I knew of, at all. I thought... I didn't think you did any of that. Grandmum always said you hated being a werewolf, didn't want to be with Mum because you were afraid of what it might do to her. Not that you'd hurt her, but because of the discrimination."

Remus sighed. "I should have talked to you about this a long time ago."

Teddy nodded, scowling. "Yeah. You should've," he spat, before he could think, then he shrank back against his headboard a little, not quite apologising.

Remus ran a hand through his hair and sighed again. "The truth is, Teddy, that I am, as you put, it, 'queer'. I tried with your mum. I loved her very much. She was, well, a good friend, and a lovely person, and she loved me, so I thought we'd give it a try. Before my werewolf status was made public, I hid it quite well for years, and, honestly, I thought this was another thing I could hide."

Teddy looked up through the fence of his lashes at his father, who was staring at his hands. "You didn't hide it from _that_ bloke," he murmured, meaning the dark-haired man whose arse had been spread so invitingly for Remus's tongue. Teddy squirmed at the thought as a bit of a tingle began to spread downwards from his stomach.

"No," Remus said, "but then again, I never hid my werewolf status from the other werewolves. We know our own, Teddy. That applies in both cases. I met Sam several years ago. We've been friends for quite some time, and only more recently did our relationship, ah, as it were, move beyond friendship."

"I didn't need to know all that," Teddy mumbled. "You could have just told me it was a one-off, or something."

Remus turned to him. "Wouldn't you rather have the truth?"

Teddy sighed and swallowed. "I suppose."

"All right, then. I'm sorry you're upset about this, but I'm still your father, and the only parent you have." He looked sad. "If your mum had lived, I honestly don't know if we'd have stayed together or not. But that's true of a lot of couples."

"Yeah, I know," Teddy muttered, thinking of some of his friends from school whose parents were divorced or separated. "I just... I guess I'm just surprised that I never had a clue, you know? Did you... were you, um, with another bloke before Mum?"

His father's lips tightened. "Yes."

"Who?" Teddy stopped himself and shook his head. "No, I'm sorry, not my business, right?"

"It's not that. My lover before your mother died." Remus shifted, crossing his arms. "After that I was very lonely, and among other things your mum helped to cheer me up. She didn't know that he and I were lovers, but she _was_ aware that we were good friends, and she realised that I missed him a great deal."

"Oh." Teddy thought for a moment. "Sirius Black?"

Remus blinked fiercely. "Yes, Sirius. There's been no one since who's been quite like him. Anyhow." He shook his head, his face reddening. "I'm sorry that I didn't tell you sooner, and that you had to find out the way you did. Not how I'd have chosen to do it, nor you either, I imagine."

"Um," Teddy said then, for a lack of anything more intelligent to say. He played with a tiny hole in the knee of his jeans that was just beginning to fray. Of course he wouldn't have _chosen_ to find out that way, for fuck's sake, especially now that his rational mind and his entirely irrational libido were warring with each other at the remembrance of the spectacle on the living room sofa.

"You'll make it worse," Remus said, his voice strangely absent, but Teddy paid him no heed, widening and fraying the hole further.

"Would you have told me?" Teddy blurted suddenly, "I mean, _ever_?"

Remus took a moment before he answered. "I honestly don't know. I suppose I would have, eventually, if I ever got into a serious enough relationship, but for the moment, I thought it best that I protect you." He sighed. "I know now that wasn't the best course of action. I should've been honest with you, and I apologise."

Teddy nodded slowly, more used to being the one having to apologise than the one being apologised to. He lifted his head and tried to meet his father's eyes and found that he couldn't, quite, so he settled for staring at his father's mouth as he began to speak. And then he remembered where that mouth had _been_ and he couldn't look at it any more.

"Were you going to say something, Ted?"

Teddy took a breath, then sighed it back out again, not answering.

"Do you have any questions for me? I want to answer them, if you do."

 _I want to know what it feels like,_ Teddy didn't say, the idea coming obscenely, seductively, into his mind. "Um. Not right now?" His voice spiralled up on the last word.

"If you need to have some time to get used to the idea, that's fine too."

Remus reached out as if to pat Teddy's knee, and Teddy flinched away, regretting it when he saw the sharp hurt flicker across his father's face. To make up for it he touched Remus's arm instead, squeezing his shoulder.

"Yeah. Maybe tomorrow, after I've thought about it, I'll have some questions." He summoned up a grin, and for good measure turned his hair green and purple in stripes, a look that never failed to amuse Remus although he didn't really like the odd colours.

"Oh, Teddy." Remus shook his head, smiling. "All right. Since you're here a day early, I didn't have anything planned for dinner. Shall we go out somewhere?"

"Great," said Teddy with enthusiasm. "Last time I was at Harry and Ginny's, James told me about this restaurant that they'd gone to for Lily's birthday, a Muggle place that served Caribbean food. Could we try that?" He stood and held out his hand to help his father up.

"Do you know where it is?" Remus asked.

"Nah, but it'll be in the directory. I remember the name." Muggle Studies was going to come in handy after all.

The meal was delicious, though the conversation became occasionally awkward. On the one hand, Teddy felt that he should probably tell his father about his own experimenting with other boys. He'd liked it, more than liked it, although he'd also quite enjoyed snogging and more with Victoire. On the other hand, one revelation of queerness in the Lupin family seemed like enough for one day.

He decided soundly against bringing up his own experiences when he saw his father discreetly checking out their waiter's arse.

"Oh my _god_ ," he muttered, turning back to his plate and shoving rice into his mouth as quickly as he could. It wasn't as though he could blame his dad--or _anyone_ , really--for checking out the rear on that particular waiter, especially as he'd been doing the same thing himself only a few minutes before, but god, did he _really_ need another reminder of how very much indeed his dad enjoyed the arses of other men?

"Something wrong?" Remus said, and Teddy choked a little on his rice.

"No," he mumbled. "Um. Pass the pepper, please?"

When the waiter dropped their cheque, Teddy could have sworn his father was flirting. But it could very well have been simple politeness. After all, Remus was always the picture of etiquette when they went out to eat--when Teddy was younger, Remus had often had to remind him to put his napkin on his lap or say _Please_ when he wanted the pepper passed to him. So surely he wouldn't so something so base as to flirt with their bloody _waiter_. No matter how nice his arse was.

Teddy shook his head to rid himself of his--surely mistaken?--notion that his father had any intentions other than simply paying the cheque.

The waiter turned, then, to walk away, and, god _dammit_ , he sodding _winked_ at Teddy. _Winked_!

That was it. Teddy was thoroughly disgusted with himself. He was seeing gay _everywhere_. And the wink had somehow landed, sizzling, in a place that was reacting far too much for a public location. Teddy swallowed a groan and made sure to carry his jacket in front of him, rather than wearing it, as they walked out.

Once they were home he excused himself, pleading tiredness, and hurried off to his room to jerk himself off frantically. This was effing ridiculous, this was. He tried hard to keep his mind on one of his more usual fantasies--the newest Beater for the Kestrels was exceptionally hot, and supposedly rode both sides of the broomstick, too--but traitorously, it kept presenting him with images of his father kissing the waiter, and more, and once again Teddy was coming, wishing that someone ( _not his father, fuck_ ) were doing to him what Remus had done to Sam whoever-he-was that afternoon.

He flopped back on the bed, sticky with the cooling come on his belly and thighs, and sighed. All his experience with other blokes had been at school, and none of them had really known what they were doing except for what they'd learnt by looking at magazines and hearing some very quiet gossip. Which meant that it was mostly snogging and rubbing off and, once or twice, sucking cock... which Teddy had discovered he liked very much indeed, whether he was doing it or having it done to him. But he wanted _more_. Not just to be actually fucked, although that was something he was curious about, but vague ideas of different positions and toys chased each other 'round his head, too, and he didn't know how he could _learn_ any of that unless...

Unless he asked. And his dad had offered to answer any questions Teddy might have, hadn't he? He'd seemed almost disappointed that Teddy hadn't had any, in fact. So.

Teddy began to consider, very carefully, just how he might go about carrying out the plan that had leaped into his mind full-fledged.

He would have to come up with a question--perhaps a series of questions--that would lead up to his Big Question. A series of questions from which he could bail out at any time, if his dad seemed too suspicious or disgusted with the direction in which the conversation was headed.

Of course, if he did bail out, he'd be up in his room pathetically wanking again, trying hard not to think about his father's tongue up the Kestrels' Beater's arse, but he decided he'd cross that bridge when he reached it.

He sat up and swallowed hard, wiping the come from himself with the sheet, not bothering with a cleaning spell. He threw on pyjamas and peeked into the hallway. His father was nowhere to be seen. All right. He'd have loved to just get the discussion _over_ with ( _and get on to the good bits_ , something in the back of his mind chorused), but he'd already begged off further conversation with his father tonight by saying he was tired, and besides, he hadn't yet decided where to begin his questioning.

He slipped into the bathroom and began to clean his teeth, letting the rhythmic swooshes of his toothbrush lure him into a light trance. He stared at himself in the mirror.

 _"Dad,"_ he said to himself in his head, _"I need your help."_ He pictured Remus at his desk, cardigan buttoned up, reading glasses perched on his nose.

 _"What is it, Ted?"_ Remus would ask. He would want to help. He always did. Teddy just hoped he could persuade him to help with _this_.

 _"I do have some questions about being queer, after all,"_ Teddy would say.

Remus would lean back and take his glasses off, setting them aside and rubbing at the red mark on the bridge of his nose. There was a scar just there, too, that always showed white even when Remus flushed. Teddy had never really thought about his father's scars; they were simply a part of him, though of course Teddy knew that most had been self-inflicted in the days before the Wolfsbane Potion had been developed. _"What do you want to know?"_

Teddy shook his head and spat into the basin. If they had this conversation there, in his father's study... no. He would need to find some reason to at least be in the living room, on the sofa, where he could touch Remus easily, accidentally. Maybe he could somehow persuade his father to have a drink, too? Or would that be too obvious?

All right. _"Maybe we could talk somewhere more comfortable?"_ he would ask. _"I feel like a kid being called before the Headmistress in here."_ Which maybe wasn't the best way to put it. He didn't want to imply that his father was effeminate. _Fuck._ He was going to cock this up completely, he knew it.

It wouldn't do to pretend total ignorance and ask what it was like to kiss a bloke. Sooner or later Teddy might have to admit that he'd done so before, and lying to his father was a bad idea. Should he just confess straight out that he thought maybe he was bent too, that he liked snogging both sexes, and more? Ask how Remus had decided that he was gay--and when, given his relationship with Teddy's mum? And maybe other women before or since? Or other men?

He walked back down the hallway, the boards creaking underfoot.

"Goodnight, Ted."

Teddy spun around. He hadn't even heard his father's bedroom door open. Remus was wearing the new dressing gown Teddy had given him for Christmas the year before to replace the threadbare one he'd had for ages.

"Goodnight, Dad," he said hastily, dragging his eyes away from the vee of exposed skin on Remus's chest, the grey hairs there that suddenly he wanted to rub his cheek against, as he'd done as a child, except to very different purpose.

"See you bright and early for breakfast," Remus called after him. "We'll make pancakes, all right?"

Teddy nodded, not turning around, and mumbled a semblance of an answer, then slipped into his room and closed the door. He leaned against it and closed his eyes. What the _hell_ was wrong with him? Most blokes his age--or any age--didn't go around planning to seduce their fathers.

But then again, he thought, throwing himself across the bed, where was the harm, really? He trusted his father implicitly, and his fumblings in the dormitories and locker rooms at school hadn't really got him anywhere. If anything, he'd been more confused after each of those encounters, when the boy who'd been sucking on his prick had ignored him in the corridor the next day, or the Seeker who'd so eagerly sought after a handjob pretended nothing had ever happened between them--until the next time Hufflepuff lost a match.

He didn't want _sex_ , dammit... okay, he did, but not _just_ sex. Not if that was what happened afterward. There had to be more to it than just physical urges, quickly satisfied against a wall or in a disused classroom.

And the boys at school hadn't really known what they were doing. Teddy sighed as he recalled quick, dry handjobs and hot urgent breath in his ear moaning _come on... come on..._ and fumbling afterward, each boy doing up his own pants and performing his own cleaning spell, trying not to look at the other.

If he'd known about his dad years ago, would he have bothered with those other boys?

He sighed again. Yes. Probably. Even now his gut was twisting at the thought of asking his father to help him, and with those boys there had never been the necessity of question or explanation, just a look or a twist of the head, an accidental touch that wasn't really accidental, the innate knowledge that it could all be laughed off were they ever to be caught.

Maybe he shouldn't over-plan, just let things happen. The worst that his father could say was no, right?

Teddy fell asleep clutching at his pillow and woke up late, startled for a moment to be back in his old bedroom and not in his flat. He could smell bacon, and his stomach growled. He also had a full bladder, but more urgent was his cock, standing to attention as if it would poke a hole right through his pyjamas. He couldn't go to breakfast like that--and whatever he'd been dreaming about, he'd twisted and sweated and now he felt thoroughly grotty. A shower was clearly in order. He'd wash up, have a quick wank while he was at it, and then go eat.

Leaning against the cool tile and watching the last traces of spunk slip down the drain, Teddy decided that this had been a good move. Now he had half a chance of being able to start off the conversation with his father without worrying about a visible and embarrassing erection. The whole thing was going to be embarrassing enough as it was, but he wasn't going to change his mind and back down now, even though he'd be the only one to know.

A tap on the door startled him. "Breakfast's ready--hurry up," came his father's voice.

"Five minutes," Teddy promised, grabbing the shampoo and hastily tipping some into his palm.

It was more like eight minutes, but very soon he was downstairs at the table, an enormous pile of pancakes on his plate.

"These're great, dad," he said somewhat indistinctly through the bite he was chewing.

"More where they came from." Remus had taken only two for himself. "They're not going to hop off the table if you don't eat them all in the first mouthful, you know." The tone was mock-stern, but he smiled. "It's nice to have someone else to cook for again, actually. Rather dull by myself."

That seemed to be as good a lead-in as any Teddy might get, though he hadn't planned to start this conversation over breakfast. "Don't you ever cook for any of your..." Teddy faltered.

"Boyfriends?" Remus supplied, his grin fading a bit.

"Um. Yeah." That maybe wasn't the word Teddy would have chosen, but if it was the one his dad wanted to use, so be it. There were far more important things to consider than terminology at the moment.

Remus gave a little sigh and cut into his pancakes with the edge of his fork. "I don't, no. Not often."

"Why not?"

Remus looked up. "I don't often see them at breakfast time, for one thing."

"Oh." Teddy turned back to his plate and picked up a piece of bacon between his fingers, earning himself a sharp look from his father, which he ignored. "What about that Sam bloke? You seemed, er. You two got along pretty well, I thought." He felt himself colour inadvertently, the blush staining down his cheeks, and he promptly turned his skin what he knew was an unattractive shade of tan on him but which would cover up the pink.

Remus chuckled a little, and Teddy could have sworn he was blushing as well. "Er. Yes," he answered. "We do, at that. But he's on the road quite a lot, so we try to keep things... casual."

Teddy was encouraged by his father's forthrightness, and he felt the blush draining from his cheeks and let his skin turn back to its natural shade.

"Do you like that? I mean. You don't have to answer that."

"No, it's fine," Remus replied, and he took a sip of tea. "I--not always. I'd prefer to be in a stable relationship, but for an old man like me, well. Sometimes you have to take what you can get."

"It's no different when you're young." Teddy blurted the words before he could think.

"Meaning?" Remus cocked his head.

"Um. Just that... there's not always a lot of choice, is there? You're always dependent on the other person's situation."

"I suppose it's hard for you with Victoire still in school for another two years. Did the two of you agree to wait, or are you free to see other people in the meantime?" Remus asked in a gentle voice.

"We're not... not exclusive." Teddy fiddled with his fork. "I'm not sure if she's the one I want, really."

"Did you have an argument? That's only natural, you know. If your mum were still alive, you'd have seen that--arguing doesn't mean you don't love each other."

"No, not an argument." Taking a deep breath, Teddy looked up. "Dad, when did you realise you liked boys?"

Remus set down his own fork and gazed at Teddy. "When I was fifteen, or thereabouts. I fell in love with my best friend." The pain that Teddy had seen in him the night before when he'd talked about Sirius was again visible. "But I didn't think he reciprocated the feeling... and I did some pretty foolish things for a while, before we got straightened out."

A giggle escaped Teddy's lips. "Sorry. Just, 'straightened out'. Sounded a bit funny."

"Ah." His father chuckled, though his eyes still held the remnants of his old loss. "Yes, I see. Anyhow. I messed around with a few other boys who didn't really mean anything to me, and a couple of girls, too, before Sirius and I managed to realise that we'd each been waiting for the other to say something."

"You did, really?" asked Teddy, trying not to let his incredulity show. "With a few other boys?" Maybe he hadn't been on the entirely wrong track after all with his fumblings in the dormitories in the middle of the afternoon, sweating and praying that no one would walk in.

Remus nodded. "And girls," he repeated.

"But--you liked the boys better." It wasn't a question. A foolish part of Teddy hoped that saying it would make it somehow true--as if that gave him better odds for the success of his plan.

"I've learned a lot about what I like and what I don't like over the years, Ted. I liked Sirius. I liked your mum." He paused to sip from his teacup.

 _I like boys, Dad,_ Teddy could have blurted right then. He opened his mouth to do it, but the words wouldn't come out. Instead, he choked a little and breathed hard for a moment, then pushed his plate away and stared at his own tea, which was growing cold.

"Ted." Teddy didn't look up. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

Teddy's mouth had gone dry. Something was burning in his chest. His stomach was twisted in a knot, and his palms had gone clammy. He swallowed hard and cleared his throat. It was as if the words that had nearly passed his lips were choking him, tormenting him until he set them free.

"You never leave bacon on your plate," Remus pointed out, tapping Teddy's abandoned plate with his own fork.

If he tried to eat, he might spew it up again. Teddy grabbed his cold tea and took a swallow. "I..."

Remus was waiting, his hand still stretched out across the table. Teddy's mind presented him with an image of that hand wrapped around a hard purple cock, stroking it knowingly. He drank again, trying to wet his throat enough to speak.

"I've kissed boys," he managed to say at last. "At school. And, and other stuff. But I can't tell if it's any good or not."

"So you've kissed both girls and boys. And done more with both, it sounds like." Remus didn't sound shocked; well, he wouldn't be, not if he'd done the same. "And now you're confused about what you might like, or not like. Is that what it is?"

Teddy nodded and reached out for the comfort of his father's warm hand, although he couldn't quite look at him yet.

"Well, that sounds perfectly reasonable for your age. I hadn't worked out what suited me best when I was eighteen," Remus said.

"Victoire and I had sex. I used _Construere_ ," he added hastily, seeing the beginnings of a frown on his father's face. "And she'd learned something from her mother..."

Remus chuckled softly. "I'm not surprised that Fleur made certain her daughter knew everything necessary at an early age. Did you enjoy yourself? Did she?"

"I think she did. She seemed to, but it's a lot harder to tell with girls," Teddy complained.

"Yes, I always thought so. But girls have other advantages, so I suppose it evens out."

"So it was good with her, but..."

"Better with boys?"

"I don't know." Teddy let his frustration show in his voice. "None of us really knew what we were doing, so I've never, you know. Done it properly. Just hands and such." His face was hot again and he picked up his tea with his free hand, sipping the cold sweet liquid.

"Hands and such," Remus repeated, "What is it, then, that you think 'doing it properly' is?"

Teddy choked on his cold tea, a dozen answers racing through his head. _A cock up my arse, please, to start_ didn't exactly sound like something he could quite say to his dad.

His hand twitched in his father's grasp, and he cleared his throat. "You know. What--what blokes do. With other blokes. With their--" The words were becoming more and more difficult to say, and Teddy shook his head. "What you were doing," he said then, his voice just above a whisper, still not meeting his father's gaze, "You know. Yesterday."

"Ah," Remus said, and there was a long silence. Teddy's palm began to sweat in the warm confines of his father's hand.

"It's just--" Teddy floundered, trying his damnedest to keep the conversation going. "It's just. You seemed to enjoy it. A lot. And so did he. And the boys at school, Dad, they'd never--it was all so, I don't know-- _impersonal_. Rough and--I mean, I _liked_ it. But I didn't--it wasn't quite _enough_."

Remus nodded and squeezed Teddy's hand. "I understand. Do believe me. I understand probably more than you think I do. I experienced exactly what you're describing."

"Maybe not exactly," Teddy said, and his eyes went wide when he realised he'd actually _said that_.

"Maybe not," Remus replied, "After all, I didn't have a Victoire. But close enough, I think, to at least sympathise."

Teddy breathed a little more easily. Of course his father hadn't known what he had meant by that.

"And I _do_ sympathise. It's not easy to figure out what or who you really like, especially when there's some pressure to choose one particular direction." Remus looked a little grim. "There's more acceptance now, I think, than when I was your age, but do the boys still call each other 'poofter' and 'fairy' and so on as insults?"

"Yeah." Teddy swallowed. The warmth of his father's hand was reassuring, as was the calm way in which he was talking, but the touch was also starting to cause some inappropriate reactions. He was glad that the table blocked Remus's view. "Some of them, anyhow."

Remus sighed. "There will probably always be some of that. I was lucky, finding Sirius. Most of the boys I fooled around with were just experimenting, the way it sounds you have been. Which is perfectly fine, too--don't be worried that just because you've liked kissing boys that makes you automatically one hundred percent gay. It's good to try out a lot of different things, but you also shouldn't be worried that you haven't figured it out yet. These things take time and practise."

"I'm not worried." And he wasn't. Confused, yes, but he'd have only been _worried_ if he hadn't found anyone at all attractive. "But now that I'm not in school, it's harder to, you know, meet people. So I don't get much chance to practise, as you say."

After a moment, Remus said, "You're old enough to go to the clubs. Wizard or even Muggle. I hear that Charon is the current favourite for wizards." He started to let go of Teddy's hand, but Teddy held on.

"I'm a little nervous of going there alone," he admitted reluctantly. He'd heard of some of the things that went on in Charon's back room, and wasn't sure he was ready for that, not with some stranger. If it were someone else his own age, he probably wouldn't know much more than Teddy, and an older man might be contemptuous of Teddy's inexperience. He licked his lip nervously. "Maybe... _you_ could help me? Show me?"

It seemed to take a moment for Teddy's words to sink in. Remus's hand twitched, then he pulled it away from Teddy's grasp.

"Ted. You don't really mean that."

"Yeah, Dad. I mean it." He swallowed against the sudden obstruction in his throat, and when he spoke again, his voice was little more than a whisper. "Dad, please. I don't trust anyone else." He hazarded a glance at his father, whose face was a mask of confusion and concern.

"Ted, there are plenty of men who--"

"I only trust _you_ , Dad!" Teddy's voice rose, and he shook with frustration. This was _not_ how this conversation should have gone, Remus protesting and all of Teddy's arguments about why it was a perfectly viable idea disintegrating until all he was left with were a shrill voice and a childlike desire to shout and cry.

Remus rose and began to clear away the breakfast dishes. "When you arrived yesterday," he said, not looking at Teddy, "You saw something you shouldn't have seen, weren't expecting to see, and that must have confused you. I don't blame you at all for feeling a little mixed up right now. I'd suggest we spend the day apart, except I think you really need your father right now."

Teddy knitted his eyebrows together and rose. "Yeah," he said, crossing to the sink and putting his trembling arms about his father from behind, "I really do." He rested his cheek for a moment on the soft plaid fabric of Remus's dressing gown, breathing deeply the scent of his father, a scent he'd known for years but which now spoke to him of more than just comfort. He felt Remus's body move in a sigh.

"It's not right, what you're asking of me. You know that."

"Why not?" Teddy's voice was muffled against Remus's back. He'd been half-hard already, but the smell and feel of Remus was making him _need_ in a way that he'd never felt before, not with Victoire, not with any of the boys. "It can't hurt anyone. I'm of age. If I want it, and you want it..." Except maybe Remus didn't. He hadn't really thought of that, had he? He'd assumed that his father would be reluctant because, yeah, this was taboo and everyone knew it, but he'd thought that Remus might secretly have a reciprocal desire. _Fuck._ He'd arsed it all up. Hot shame scalded him and he let go, stepping away, scrubbing his hand over his eyes fiercely. "You don't want me... I'm an idiot, I'm sorry."

"Teddy, no." The effort that Remus made to turn around and face Teddy was obvious. "I'm... I'm flattered. Truly I am. But you're my son, you're so young..."

"I can't help being young." The words almost jerked themselves out of Teddy's mouth. "That why I need you, to teach me. _Please._ " He hated the way that his voice broke despite his attempts to steady it. "I promise, I'll do whatever you want, if you'll help me with this."

Standing there in the kitchen with its yellow curtains, the breakfast dishes washing themselves in the sink and hopping into the drainer, Teddy had never wanted anything more in his life than to figure out how to persuade his father to agree to his request. At that moment nothing else mattered.

Remus's eyes were unreadable. One arm was wrapped around himself, the other carding through his mostly-grey hair. "You should never offer anything you're not willing to give," he said at last.

"I'm willing," Teddy promised, hope singing in his heart that this meant Remus was going to agree. "I meant it. Anything."

Remus raised his eyebrows for a moment, then sighed. "I'm going to get dressed, and then I'm going to go into my study for a little while. While I'm in there, I want you to finish cleaning up the kitchen. Including cleaning the floor." His voice was measured, and, try as Teddy might, he could discern nothing in it that indicated whether Remus was for or against Teddy's proposition.

Teddy nodded, waiting. He hated mopping the floors more than any other household task, but he had said he'd be willing to do anything, hadn't he? He wasn't sure if this was a test of his father's to see if he'd been serious, or if the kitchen floor really did need to be cleaned, but he didn't want to risk jeopardising his already precarious position by complaining.

"Sure, Dad," he said, but he didn't move from where he stood near the breakfast table. He kept looking at his father, waiting for a sign, a gesture, anything that might let him know what was going through his father's head.

Remus made as if to move past him, then, but turned at the last moment and put his arms around Teddy. Teddy stiffened all over, then returned the embrace.

"I love you very much, son," Remus murmured, close to Teddy's ear, "Remember that." Teddy gave a great shudder that he tried to repress as his father's hot breath caused the hair on the back of his neck to stand up.

Remus let go after a long, tense moment, and moved out of the kitchen and up the stairs, his footsteps weary and slower than usual. Teddy didn't move until he heard his father's bedroom door close at the top of the stairs, then he turned and slumped into the chair his father had so recently occupied.

" _God_ ," he groaned, his teeth gritted, " _Fucking hell._ " Had he done and said everything all right? He felt like a complete arse. Maybe that was a good thing. It certainly put him in the right mood for mopping the floor; he might as well do that first, get it over with. The dishes were already clean, and there were just a couple of skillets still to be washed.

Teddy pulled out the mop and bucket and filled the latter with hot water, tipping in a lavish dollop of Mrs Skower's. Cleaning charms didn't work very well when used directly on the floor, at least Teddy's didn't, but a good strong spell on the mop and it would scrub adequately, if a little damply. He would have to go over the floor with something to dry up the puddles afterward.

He directed the mop to clean the spot in front of the sink first, then put down a ragged towel to stand on--he hadn't bothered with slippers and was barefoot--while he washed up the pans. Usually he disliked cleaning of any type, but today it was almost soothing to concentrate on making sure every bit of grease was scrubbed away, the crumbs wiped from the counter, until the kitchen was as sparkling as he could make it. If this was some sort of test, he was determined to pass it.

When everything was clean and the last drops of water gone from the floor, he rinsed out the mop and sent it and the bucket clattering back into their cupboard, wiped down the sink and hung the dishcloth neatly over the tap, then took a deep breath and went to knock at Remus's study door.

"Dad? I've finished."

"Come in." His father's tone was no different from any other time that Teddy had knocked and disturbed him in the middle of reading something, calm with just a hint of impatient resignation. He looked the same, too, just as Teddy had imagined when he was thinking about this the night before, with his favourite olive cardigan on--the one with the mend on the shoulder where he'd caught it against a nail while hanging a picture--and his reading glasses catching the light as he looked across the desk at Teddy.

"Sit down."

On the side of the room nearest the door were a pair of well-worn overstuffed chairs, older than Teddy himself as his grandparents had given them to his parents as a wedding gift. Teddy had often curled up in one of them to read or draw while his father was working. Today he dragged it closer to the desk, turning it so that he'd face his father, and sat with his bare feet tucked under him, waiting for Remus to continue.

"Well," Remus said, and he took off his reading glasses and rubbed the red mark on the bridge of his nose, just next to the white scar that skimmed across the top of it. Teddy's stomach did somersaults as Remus set the glasses on his desk blotter, but he tried his damnedest not to let his nervousness show. He bit the inside of his bottom lip and waited, wriggling his toes.

"Let's discuss this, shall we?" asked Remus. He sat up a little straighter in his chair.

"Man-to-man?" Teddy replied, hardly daring to hope.

"I think we should begin with father-to-son, Ted."

"And then move on from there." His father had always said he'd inherited his mother's streak of stubbornness. Teddy set his jaw and wriggled his toes again, his heart threatening to beat right out of his chest, hoping he hadn't pushed too far.

"The father-to-son discussion will be brief," Remus said, apparently ignoring Teddy's tactical move. "There is no reason you shouldn't be able to explore your sexuality on your own. I managed it and so did hundreds, thousands of other wizards before me. Making mistakes is all a part of the process."

Teddy groaned inwardly. Is that what his father thought this was? A _mistake_? If he could only know what Teddy knew, feel the _need_ that kept welling up inside him, then surely he'd understand, wouldn't he?

"However," Remus continued, and Teddy's heart leapt into his throat.

"However?"

"However," Remus continued, nodding, "you are my son, and I would sooner see myself dead than have any harm come to you. The world has changed a lot since I was young. I was lucky--I found Sirius at school, as safe a place as any, but you've got the entire Wizarding and Muggle worlds to explore, and I would be lying if I said I haven't been sitting in here worrying about what could happen to you out there."

Teddy nodded, not daring to interrupt.

Remus leaned forward, folding his hands together. "What you've asked of me is wrong, by society's standards, Ted. Very wrong indeed. I know that you already know that." There was a long pause. "Society's standards have not done well by me in many ways. As a werewolf, I have been subject to ostracism, even legal restrictions; I had to fight to retain custody of you after your mother died."

"You did?" Teddy couldn't help interjecting. He'd never heard that before.

"I did," Remus confirmed. "Your grandmother Andromeda very nearly raised you. It wasn't her doing, mind, it was some busybody who started a petition to the Ministry, claiming that a werewolf couldn't be trusted with a child. As if I hadn't made arrangements for you to be cared for at every full moon, usually by Andromeda. Well. I won, eventually, with a good deal of help from Hermione Granger and some others, but it wasn't easy. In any case, the point is that what laws say and what society says may not always be what is best for the people involved."

Did that mean...?

"I would never risk harm coming to you." Remus's jaw was clenched. "But you've persuaded me that perhaps it would be a greater harm to deny you, to send you out untaught. Nothing might happen... but then, it might. I want you to have the knowledge you need to make wise choices, in the end, and whether you finally conclude you prefer men or women.

"So I have decided to teach you, but with certain conditions." He ticked them off on his fingers. "First and foremost, you will not tell anyone-- _anyone!_ \--about this. Ever. Under any circumstances."

He looked at Teddy as if waiting for him to object, but Teddy merely nodded. He'd expected that much.

"Second, and as part of that, you will behave toward me at all times in public as you always have. I am your father, and I will be your tutor in these matters, but I cannot be your lover. No calf eyes, none of that sort of thing. Third, you'll continue to live in your own flat, work at the apothecary shop, socialise with your friends. You will only come here for my teaching at agreed-upon times; no popping in unexpectedly. Send an owl or Floo-call first."

Teddy was sure that that provision was due to last night.

"Fourth." Remus stopped to take a breath. "Fourth, I will set you lessons. You will follow my instructions in these lessons completely, or they will end."

Teddy nodded, trying to keep the nod from becoming frantic. He had said he'd do anything, and he had meant it. And these provisions really weren't so bad. Of course they couldn't be lovers publicly-- _or at all_ , Teddy reminded himself, _he said he would teach you and that's all_. Teddy hadn't exactly thought about his father in terms of a lover, had only desired him, craved him on a base, physical level. _And he was to have that, at least!_

"Are these provisions clear?" Remus asked. "Have you any questions on any of my requirements?"

"Absolutely clear, Dad," Teddy responded. He thought for a moment. "I guess I have got one question, though."

"What's that?" Remus asked. He picked up a quill from the edge of his blotter and twirled it between his fingertips, then set it down again.

"Well," Teddy said, and he blew out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding and met his father's eyes. "When can we start our lessons?"

Remus nearly smiled, cocking his head to the side. "I should have known you'd be eager," he said. "I'll want to draw up a schedule before we begin. Can you wait until tomorrow?"

Teddy's heart leapt, and he felt his cock twitch in his pants. _Tomorrow!_ Tomorrow was so _soon_ \--and to think, just an hour ago he'd been despairing that this would ever happen.

"I--yes," Teddy replied. The pleasant, pulsating ache in his groin insisted that it couldn't wait until then, but he ignored it. "Yes, I can wait until then." There was no use demanding that they start now, that Remus bend Teddy over the sofa and do what he'd been doing to whatever that man's name was--Sam, right, that was it--and Teddy ground the heel of his hand into his crotch to stop the erection that was growing faster than he could comprehend.

"Dad," he said then, smiling, "I know it's not exactly the same thing, but Harry always says you were his favourite professor at Hogwarts, and the very best besides."

At this Remus did smile, creases appearing at the corners of his eyes. "Did he?"

"Yeah. And, like I said, I know it's not the same, but--well, I'm looking forward to it. And not just for the--um, the physical parts." It wasn't quite a lie, but Teddy knew he was exaggerating just a little.

"I'm glad," his father said. "It's been a long time since I've taught anything to anyone." His smile turned slightly mischievous. "The last time might have been teaching _you_ , in fact--to use the toilet."

" _Dad_!" That was enough to wilt Teddy's erection immediately. Well, nearly enough. He'd be able to walk out of the room unhumiliated, anyhow.

Remus laughed. "Actually, I think it was teaching you to tie your shoes."

"Humph," Teddy grumbled, although he was secretly relieved to have their discussion take a lighter turn, embarrassing though it might be. "You didn't really need to say that."

"All right, Ted, go on with you now. Weren't you supposed to visit your godfather for tea this afternoon?"

Teddy nodded, uncurling himself and standing up. "I said I'd go over at about one, play with the kids first. They all like to see me morph my face." He hesitated, then went around behind the desk to give his father a one-armed hug, and said softly, "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Remus had picked up the quill again and pulled a piece of parchment towards himself. "I'll be thinking about your lessons while you're away. I won't expect you back until seven, for dinner--I've a roast to cook, so please be on time or it'll dry out."

"I will," Teddy promised. He glanced back at his father as he left the room, seeing his head bent a little, quill already scratching at the parchment. It was only twelve-fifteen, and he would take the Floo to Harry's... plenty of time for a quick wank, if he wanted one. And he did, a shiver running through him at the thought that tomorrow he'd be having sex, _real_ sex, with someone who knew exactly what he was doing. Well, maybe; his father hadn't said what the first lesson would be about. But whatever it was, Teddy was sure it would be good.

Teddy headed up the stairs, trying to keep his pace unhurried. He told himself he was just going to put on some shoes before he headed to Harry's, but he knew what he'd end up doing once he arrived at his bedroom.

He closed the door behind himself and leaned against it for a moment, drawing in a long breath and then letting it out slowly as a smile spread across his face.

"He said _yes_ ," he whispered to himself. He still couldn't quite believe it. He ran a hand down the front of his jeans and cupped his thickening cock, massaging it through the fabric until the pressure became almost too much to bear.

"He said _yes_ ," Teddy repeated as he eased down his jeans and his pants and tugged off his shirt, spreading himself across the bed. He swiped a thumb across the head of his cock, teasing the sensitive skin there, and scraped the fingernails of the other hand lightly across his balls, shivering as he did so.

There was no need to hurry, no worries about anyone hearing--hell, his father probably guessed exactly what he was doing at that moment. Teddy basked in his newfound freedom, wanking himself slowly and grinning all the while. He brought the hand that was teasing his balls up to his mouth and sucked on a finger, then teased the finger across his arsehole, pressing almost inside, but not quite. He knew it was supposed to feel incredible, but he'd never quite worked up the courage to actually fuck himself with his own fingers whilst wanking. And now hardly seemed an appropriate time to start. His father would take care of that--and so much more.

He continued teasing his wet finger across his eager pucker, jerking himself a little faster as precome began to seep from the head of his cock. He smeared the fluid down his shaft, imagining that the finger teasing him was not his own, but one of his father's long, pale fingers with its neatly rounded nail.

And that was when he lost it, imagining his father opening him with a whispered spell and a wetted finger. He came in spurts all over his belly, arching up and giving a great wordless moan.

He collapsed against his pillows, panting, his chest heaving, his eyes closed.

Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus makes a list (and checks it twice) and Sam and Teddy are more formally introduced.

Remus sighed as the door closed behind his son. He couldn't quite believe he had agreed to this insane idea of Teddy's. At least he had had the sense to establish some reasonable conditions, but now he had to come up with a programme of lessons to teach Teddy some of the finer points of gay sex.

He pulled the parchment toward him and doodled on it. When he'd been teaching at Hogwarts, he'd always been more comfortable with the practical side of things, rather than the more academic parts, but he supposed he should ensure that Teddy do some research on his own rather than simply buggering him. Remus's lips twisted in a wry smile. Much as he might enjoy that, the whole point was that Teddy should learn in a gentle fashion. And Remus was still more than a little uncomfortable with the entire idea. He had better start off slowly, give Teddy a chance to change his mind.

"1," he scribbled. "Touch."

He tapped the quill against his chin for a moment. Of course Teddy had _been_ touched, and had touched himself, but Remus remembered being a teenager, and how there was only one general area that mattered when touch was the issue. He was nearly certain that Teddy hadn't taken the time--and nor had any of the other boys who might have touched Teddy--to explore his body, finding titillating and sensitive spots that he hadn't known existed.

"Hands, mouth," Remus wrote on the parchment below his heading. Sirius had had a way of dragging his wetted lips over Remus's skin, not quite kissing, that had always driven him mad. Remus licked his own lips, remembering, then gave a small sigh and carried on.

"Ears," he wrote, "neck, throat, nipples, arms, fingers, belly, hips, thighs, legs, toes." He gave a little shiver when he came to the end of his list. Teddy probably wouldn't find touches and kisses in all those places arousing, but--did he dare admit it to himself, even just in his head? Remus was going to enjoy finding out.

It was a mad idea, it _was_ , but Remus would have been lying to himself if he said he wasn't looking forward to it just a little. _All right--more than a little._

It had been so long since Sirius, so long since he'd had the opportunity to touch and kiss in new places a body that had never before known such touches and kisses. And Teddy would be a willing--no, _eager_ \--student.

There were other aspects to touch, too, that Remus could demonstrate. The difference between the slow drag of a fingertip and the scratch of a nail. The tickling dance of a feather drifting across a patch of skin usually ignored, or the whisper-slide of silk, or the butteriness of well-worn leather-- _god, Teddy in leather, no don't think about it now_.

He jotted down a few ideas for items he might use, then passed on to the next lesson. "2. Hands." That seemed a reasonable follow-up to the first, and again, something that Teddy had experienced already, by himself and doubtless with his partners, whether boys or girls. Remus could assign homework for this one... perhaps something for Teddy to do alone that would take his lessons in touch and start applying them, and also some research? There were a number of illustrated volumes and back issues of certain magazines in Remus's locked bookcase. He would have Teddy look at some of those for the techniques shown, and then they could have a practical lesson.

Hands were a good second step, yes. Teddy seemed to think that it wasn't "real" sex, but he was wrong. Remus shivered a little, remembering not Sirius, this time, but Allan, who'd been a Chaser for the Kestrels and who had given Remus six winter months of his very talented hands, some five--no, six--years ago now. Oh yes. Hands. The subtleties of varying pressure in a stroke, from firm to gentle or the reverse; or a twist at an unexpected moment; or the ancillary touches to thighs and bollocks, teasing, dragging out the encounter so that it could reach its fullest heights. All in conjunction with the touches from the first lesson.

Remus swallowed. "3. Mouth. Kisses, from the lips down to the cock, and blowjobs." He rather thought that would be enough for one lesson. If Teddy exhibited the normal tendencies of a teenaged boy, he'd climax quickly when Remus sucked him off... but that was no problem. He would need to learn to reciprocate, after all. Another good possibility for homework, sucking would be. Sirius had practised on courgettes, he once confided to Remus, and Teddy could do the same.

He wondered if Teddy's experience with "hands and such" had extended to blowjobs. A picture of Teddy grasping at the hair of some anonymous boy floated unbidden into his head, and he closed his eyes for a moment, and then the picture changed: Teddy on his knees in the dormitory--no, in the Quidditch showers, yes, water coursing around him, his throat working to swallow a load of come, a little seeping out the corners of his mouth...

 _Oh, hell._

Remus opened his eyes and adjusted his position, straightening his back and pressing his thighs together. This would not do. He could not become aroused at fantasies of his own son sucking cock at school, no matter how tempting those fantasies might be. He'd agreed to _teach_ Teddy, not to use him for personal pleasure--and the teaching was taboo enough.

He forced himself to concentrate on the parchment before him as if it were a balance sheet or a shopping list, something far more innocuous than the list that he was going to have to charm to look like something else once he finished. He couldn't very well risk someone--Harry, Sam, another guest--asking to borrow a quill, then looking in Remus's desk and discovering an instruction manual on How to Defile One's Teenaged Son.

"4. Penetration," Remus wrote, his hand shaking a little as he crossed the Ts and dotted the I. He paused to consider, then scratched out the entry.

"4. Rimming." There, that was better, a more logical next step--from a certain perspective, at any rate. He thought that Teddy probably had little to no experience with penetration, given his declaration that he'd never "done it properly". And a thorough rimjob was the best place to start, exploring Teddy's virgin arse slowly, gently, teasing him with flicks of the tongue all around his pink pucker and then inside, opening him, relaxing him.

Remus shuddered, flashing back on the night before, when Teddy had seen him with his tongue up Sam's arse. Their eyes had locked, and Teddy had just stood stock-still for a moment before rushing from the room. The interruption had effectively put an end to any further exploration of Sam's arse, and Remus had been annoyed, as it was one of his favourite activities.

He and Sirius had learned it together, after seeing it in one of the magazines that Sirius acquired by some ever-mysterious method, but Remus had never worried too much about that. Remus suspected that as Padfoot, Sirius had grown more used to pungent smells than most people, and found the limited sense of humans frustrating. Certainly unlike Remus, Sirius didn't always bother with cleaning charms (although Remus wouldn't kiss him afterward, if he hadn't used one).

Rimming might not be a skill he'd require Teddy to master, not yet, not unless Teddy showed interest in doing so, but he could introduce the boy to the delights of receiving it, accustom him to the idea that it was at least one possibility for his sexual repertoire. He would be sure to teach him the appropriate charm for cleanliness, too. Remus noted that down as a subheading.

On to lesson five. If Teddy was a virgin, or nearly so, in penetration, Remus decided, then he had best take matters slowly. "5. Toys. Plugs, clamps, blindfolds, bindings." A plug was the very thing to start him off with, get him used to the feeling of fullness there, without being self-conscious about dirtiness--though the rimming lesson should have quieted that anxiety--and although Remus might not use additional toys on his son, he would discuss the possibilities with Teddy, show him his own collection, perhaps demonstrate a few.

Mentally he rummaged through the plugs he already owned. He would want to purchase one or two, in smaller sizes. Or perhaps it would be better to gift Teddy with a new set of his own, three or more ranging from perhaps half an inch on up? Remus suppressed a groan, thinking of how it would be to watch Teddy's arse embrace each plug in turn. A set, then, and he should buy some good lubricant to go with them, so that Teddy could practise on his own, afterward, preparing himself for the final lesson.

"6. Penetration." Once Teddy had been breached by tongue and by toys, it would be time.

"Time to do it _properly_ ," Remus murmured to himself, echoing Teddy's words from that morning. He wrote nothing further on the page--if he hadn't learned enough about Teddy to let instinct take over once they reached the sixth and final lesson, then he would have failed him as a teacher. And he already knew what he would do. The scene had been building in the back of his mind as he had been compiling his lesson plans.

He would stretch Teddy, fully nude, across the bed, the room lit by candles and draped in shadows. He would gaze down at his son, savouring the play of the flickering candlelight across his young, taut skin, his flat belly, the peaks of his jutting hipbones. He wondered for a moment about the colour of his son's pubic hair--could he change that at will, like he could the hair on his head? Remus supposed he could--after all, Tonks had been able to, so there was no reason why Teddy's shouldn't be cerulean or cobalt or chartreuse.

But Remus imagined a sedate dark brown, Teddy's erection nestled in the centre, jutting out proudly. He would undress, then, and lie next to his son, moving through the lessons Teddy had already learned and mastered, touching him all over with hands and mouth, kissing him, tasting him, knowing him, working his way from Teddy's lips down to his insistent cock and dampening his own lips with the precome that welled up from the head.

He would tease Teddy's hole with his fingertips, then push the boy's legs apart and administer kisses up the insides of his thighs and lave his tongue over the crease between thigh and groin, causing Teddy to squirm with anticipation. When he reached Teddy's hole, clean and pink and awaiting penetration, he would press kisses there as well, teasing the pucker with the very tip of his tongue until Teddy relaxed enough to let him in, preparing the way for Remus's cock.

It would all be so natural. Remus shifted in his seat and wetted his lips, forcing himself to stop imagining the scene in such detail. The candle-lit bedroom faded from his mind's eye as he drifted back to reality and stared at his parchment. He nodded to himself and cupped his half-hard cock in his hand, checking the clock on the wall. It was early yet--he certainly had time for a wank--but should he?

Perhaps not, but "should" was scarcely an operative word for Remus, not now, not with what he was planning. He'd been interrupted last night with Sam, and Teddy had teased him this morning--not deliberately, perhaps, although Remus had his doubts about that, but the result was the same. The lessons wouldn't begin until tomorrow.

But he wasn't going to wank in his desk chair, not when he could do it more comfortably on his bed... or perhaps in the shower. Remus thought briefly about adding locations to his lesson plan. Later, perhaps. No one was checking up on him, and he could revise it as seemed necessary. Right now, he headed to the bath, with a brief detour to his bedroom first.

The plug sank into him smoothly, making Remus groan as he braced one arm against the tiled wall, leaning his forehead on it. A spell started it moving. The rhythm was one that suited him, but still, the very predictability of it was less satisfying than having an actual prick inside him. _Teddy's prick._ He imagined it, briefly, then banished the image from his mind. Teddy would never be his lover; Remus didn't want that, really. A young body was all very well in bed, for a while, but for anything permanent, anything real, Remus knew he wanted a man his own age, more or less. He moved his hand slowly over his own cock, rubbing his thumb along the ridge of the biggest vein, sliding the foreskin up and down.

Warm water trickled over his skin, the caress of an absent companion. Remus straddled his legs wider, letting the plug thrust a little deeper. He regretted not having chosen a larger one, but this would do, if he nudged it to a better angle... ah, _there_ , yes. He whimpered a little, panting as it pressed against his prostate, sending lovely warm messages of encouragement to his cock.

Remus shifted his grip, tightening it, stroking longer, harder, faster, a pounding beat the same as that of the plug moving in his arse. He conjured up Sirius's face, as he so often did on these occasions, ignoring the loneliness it provoked and concentrating on his memory of the way that Sirius had loved him, had shown that love in the way he made love to Remus.

He was close, so close.

And that was when he heard the bathroom door creak open.

Remus's eyes went wide and his heart began to race. He stood up straight and whipped the shower curtain open just enough to expose his head and upper torso and nearly fainted with relief when he saw who it was. He sighed out a shuddering breath, reaching around himself to ease the still-moving plug from his arse and drop it on the shower floor.

"What are you _doing_ here?" he asked, his shoulders sagging a little as his breathing returned to normal.

Sam lounged in the bathroom doorway, his hands in his pockets, a grin spreading over his face. "Thought I'd see if you were home," he replied, "The front door was unlocked. I called out, but no one answered, and then I heard the shower and I thought I'd sneak up here and surprise you. I just hoped it wasn't the kid."

Remus closed his eyes and shook his head. "No, Teddy's out for the day." He clutched the shower curtain to him--no matter how intimate he and Sam were, it was still embarrassing to have been caught--nearly caught--wanking in the shower. Thank god he hadn't been moaning anything--any _names_ \--had he?

"Good," Sam said, toeing off his shoes and stepping closer, "Because I want to be able to finish what we started last night." He undid his trousers and pushed them down, then shucked his shirt and vest and peeled off his socks and his pants, leaving everything in a heap on the floor by the shower.

"Mind if I join you?"

Remus cast a glance downwards at the red rubber plug that had rolled towards the drain.

"Er..." Quickly he grabbed the facecloth that hung on a hook by the taps and dropped it over the incriminating object, whispering " _Finite incantatem_ " as he did. "No, not at all."

As Sam stepped in, Remus bent over and picked up facecloth and plug together, bundling them so that no red was visible and shoving them behind the bottle of shampoo. He'd never known Sam to use a facecloth, so he hoped that would be safe enough.

Sam stroked over Remus's bum. "So your boy won't be home for a while?"

"He's at his godfather's, staying for tea." Remus couldn't hide that he'd already had an erection, so he made the best of it, rubbing enthusiastically against Sam's thigh as he put his arms around him. "Won't be back till six or seven. We've plenty of time."

"I'm glad," Sam said against Remus's skin. "Because you really left me in a state last night, I can tell you."

"Me, too." Remus slid his hands down Sam's back, slipping a finger into the crease between his cheeks. "As I recall, we were about... here?" He licked a stripe over Sam's mouth just as he touched the tight opening.

"Mm. Yes."

"Here, then," said Remus, pulling Sam back a little so that Remus would not be in the direct spray of the shower. "Turn around."

It wouldn't be comfortable to kneel for long on the hard enamel, but sinking down, Remus thought he could manage.

"Don't you want something under your knees? Here, use this," said Sam.

He reached towards the facecloth, but Remus said hastily, "No, I'm fine. Honestly. If I need anything, a Cushioning Charm will be better anyhow." He spread Sam open, murmured his favourite cleaning spell, and leaned in to taste again the dish that had been denied him the night before.

"Ohhhh, fuck," Sam moaned as Remus opened him with his tongue, teasing around his entrance and then pressing inside. Remus reached through Sam's legs and began to caress his bollocks, his fingers colliding with Sam's as Sam pumped his cock slowly, no doubt squeezing hard on the downstroke as he so loved to do and to have done to him.

Remus shifted, his knees already beginning to ache, and he buried his face further between Sam's arsecheeks, curling his tongue in and out of Sam's relaxed hole, and bringing the hand that wasn't teasing Sam's bollocks down to caress his own insistent erection. He applied light touches to himself--he certainly didn't want to come already, though he could if he wasn't careful. He had worked himself into such a state with the plug and the steamy water and thoughts of Teddy that he still quivered on the edge of orgasm.

"Fuck," Sam moaned again, "'S brilliant." He opened his legs wider, slipping just a little on the wet enamel of the tub, and Remus grabbed his ankle, steadying him, and took his mouth away from Sam's hole.

He stood, embracing Sam under the spray. "Perhaps we should continue this in the bedroom?"

Sam grinned. "Brilliant," he murmured, nipping at Remus's ear.

"Get yourself dry and I'll meet you in there, then," Remus ordered, slapping Sam's arse. Sam laughed and exited the shower, and Remus took up the facecloth with his plug inside and waited until he heard Sam leave the bathroom. He rinsed off quickly and shut off the taps, then threw a towel around his waist and looked around for someplace to hide the plug for the time being--he could hardly carry it into the bedroom with him and put it away where it belonged. He opened the cupboard below the sink and tossed it, still wrapped in the facecloth, into the back, behind the extra toilet rolls. That would do for now.

Thankfully the pause had allowed Remus to cool down a bit, and he no longer felt as if he wouldn't be able to last long enough for Sam, who had thrown back the bedclothes and was sprawled out, waiting.

"Up or down?" he asked with a wink.

"Down," said Remus, and so Sam remained on his back, but he drew up his knees and held them to allow Remus access to his arsehole once again.

Remus fumbled in the bedside drawer for another bottle of lube and pulled it out, ready. He crawled up onto the bed and whispered in Sam's ear, "I'm going to lick you wide open and then fuck you, and after that I'll ride you till you come."

"Fuck yeah," Sam agreed.

His hole twitched as Remus blew over it, then ran his tongue just around the edge, licking gently, coaxing the muscle to relax. He heard Sam groan, felt the movement as Sam rubbed his own prick, pushed it down so that the tip touched Remus's head, then let it spring up again. Remus pointed his tongue and speared inward, using it like a tiny cock and fucking into Sam, who rocked to meet him. After a few minutes his tongue felt a little sore from being held so still, and he changed tactics, letting it soften and curl and glide along the hot channel, tasting the very essence of Sam.

When Remus had finally had enough and his jaw began to tire, he tipped a dollop of lubricant onto his fingers and slipped three inside. Sam was so wide open that all Remus needed to do was ensure that there would be no uncomfortable friction. He wiped the last of it on his own cock and lifted himself, positioning the head of his prick at Sam's entrance and letting himself sink in slowly and steadily, smiling down at Sam as he did.

Oh, but this was better than the wank he'd had planned. He couldn't blame Teddy, could he, for wanting to learn something better, something more, when Remus enjoyed it so much himself?

He stayed still for a moment when he was balls-deep inside Sam, closing his eyes and savouring the tight heat all around his cock. He opened his eyes again, then, and grinned down at Sam.

"You ready?"

"Been ready since last night," Sam replied, his voice husky, his eyes half-lidded. He reached out to Remus and gripped his hips so tightly that Remus was almost certain there would be bruises there later. He didn't mind--his body was so riddled with scars anyway that a few fingerprint-sized bruises hardly mattered, especially when they served as a reminder of a thoroughly pleasurable experience.

It was a slow fuck, slow and hard and perfect, the grip of Sam's arse matching that of his hands, and Remus found the angle that made Sam make all sorts of noises that didn't sound as if they could come from a throat that was only human. The sweat broke out on Remus's chest as he thrust, dripping down salty along the jut of his hips, to Sam's fingers, and creeping to the base of his cock where it stung just enough to make Remus fall apart at last, coming with a howl and his head thrown back, triumphant.

"Now," he said through a throat dry with his need to be filled in turn, pulling out of Sam and grabbing the bottle of lube again, slicking himself and shoving two fingers inside hastily before he wriggled up to spread his thighs over Sam's hips.

"You don't want more..."

Whether Sam was going to say "time" or "prep" or whatever it might have been, Remus cut him off, bending to press their lips together, reaching behind himself to guide Sam's cock, ignoring the stretchy burn and sighing in relief when his arsecheeks touched Sam's skin and he knew Sam was fully sheathed in him. He rode Sam as he'd promised, rocking, pushing himself to take every centimetre as deeply as possible--he loved that feel of union, two bodies joined as completely as they could be.

Sam shouted as he came, a little sooner than Remus might have wished but then, he'd had Remus's best efforts first, so no wonder. Remus raised himself up with a slight wince for the effort and stretched out beside Sam, sweat-slick and happy. He hadn't thought of Teddy at all, during, but now he did, because Sam asked, "Should I go before your son comes back?"

Remus had a sudden vision of Teddy watching them last night, of him appearing in the doorway now and seeing them satiated this way, of Teddy getting hard by watching his father fuck another man.

"No," he said roughly. He wasn't Teddy's to be jealous of; now that Teddy knew about Remus, there was no reason to hide anything. "Unless you want to, or have somewhere you need to be. I've a roast to cook for dinner, and there's plenty for three."

"I haven't got anywhere better to be," Sam murmured, rolling over and slinging a lazy arm across Remus's torso. "And, you know, I think I'd like to meet this son of yours. Properly, that is--with my trousers on this time." He gave a chuckle and Remus laughed, too, though a little cautiously.

"Sam," he said, shifting his position and arranging Sam's arm more comfortably over his waist, "Teddy's had a rough couple of days. He found out his dad was an old poof--by seeing me with my tongue up your arse, no less, and before you ask, yes, he _will_ know it was you. I explained our, ah, relationship to him."

"So you want me to take it easy on the kid?"

"Would you, please?"

"No prancing about and telling him how darling he is, or how well his trousers make his sweet little arse look?" Sam smirked and Remus smacked him on the arm.

"That would be a start, yes, thank you." Remus shifted away from Sam--he didn't need to be reminded of his son's "sweet little arse" at the moment, because that only brought to mind the things he'd be _doing_ to that arse soon.

"I'll be good, I promise," Sam purred, catching Remus around the waist and pulling him close again. Remus sighed and rested in Sam's embrace, content for the moment but worrying about dinner, despite Sam's promise.

"Just one thing," Sam said then, against Remus's still-damp hair. "Does he, er--I don't mean to sound like a pompous rock star here, but does he know who I am?"

"He knows you as Sam," Remus replied, "That's all. It's up to you whether you tell him the rest, though truth be told I don't think that the name Stubby Boardman means anything to him. No offence. He's more into modern music. I have no idea what the bands are called. All I know is that they're all exceedingly loud and I can't tell one from the next, but he seems to like them."

Sam smiled. "No, that's fine," he said, "I mean, I've been mostly out of the public eye for what, thirty-five years now? And I'll be damned if I don't still get recognised when I'm in the market just trying to buy a chicken for dinner. I much prefer being just plain Sam."

"How did you get the name Stubby, anyhow?" Remus had meant to ask that for a long time. "Were you short as a kid?"

"Uh-uh." Sam wriggled his pelvis against Remus. "Got it because I'm _not_ stubby where it counts, you know. M'best friend in school was really talented at magic, and we called him 'Squibby'; I was ace between the sheets, so I was 'Stubby.'"

Remus laughed at that. "I see. I always wondered."

"Was a good stage name, too, when I started singing," said Sam. "Not that I pulled a lot of birds, once I figured out they weren't what I wanted, but the name brought them flocking, and that was good for sales and all."

"I suppose it was." Remus remembered well when "Stubby Boardman" was a household name, and he himself had had a bit of a crush on the glamorous singer. He much preferred knowing the real man, who taught music to a handful of students but spent most of his time working for several wizarding charities, since he'd made some surprisingly good investments with what he'd earned while with the Hobgoblins.

They stayed comfortably curled up in bed together for a while longer, before Remus had to get up and start cooking the roast. Sam sat in the kitchen with him--Remus was pleased to see that Teddy had, in fact, done a very good job with cleaning it--and read the _Prophet_ while Remus peeled potatoes and got the sprouts ready.

"Hey Dad, the Potters got a Kneazle kitten, you have to see it sometime!" Teddy crashed the kitchen door open and then stood open-mouthed. "Um. Hi?"

"Ted, this is my friend Sam," said Remus from the sink.

Sam stood up and reached out his hand to Teddy, whose face had turned beet red.

"I'm very pleased to meet you, Ted," Sam said, "Your father's told me quite a lot about you."

Remus smiled to himself. Sam really was taking this being good thing seriously. Remus caressed his shoulder as he crossed to the cupboards lining the opposite wall, earning a smile from Sam and a stare from Teddy as he returned with a platter for the roast, which he set on the counter.

"What, um--" said Teddy then, letting go of Sam's hand, "Why are you here? I mean--sorry. That was rude."

"Not at all," said Sam with a chuckle, settling down with the paper again. "I didn't get to meet you properly last night, and so I thought I'd come over and do so this afternoon. But you weren't home, and so your father kindly suggested I join the two of you for dinner. I hope you don't mind--I'm quite looking forward to this roast."

At the mention of last night, Remus's gaze automatically flicked to Teddy. The boy's cheeks had faded from red to pink, but his blush flared up again, no doubt with memories of what exactly "last night" had entailed. Teddy just stared at Sam for a moment. His hair turned from sky blue to a very dark brown, nearly black, and he knitted his eyebrows together.

"Very cool," Sam said appreciatively, turning a page in the _Prophet_. Remus took forks and knives from the silverware drawer and held them out towards Teddy, who was still standing where he had landed when he entered the kitchen, staring, chewing his bottom lip as if trying to decide what to say.

"Here you go, Ted," Remus said as Teddy took the silverware. "Plates and napkins, too, please, and water glasses. And wine glasses," he added after a short pause.

This got Teddy to move. "Why're we having wine?"

"Because Sam's offered to go pick some up," Remus said, earning himself a look from Sam that clearly said _When did I say that?_ "And because this is a bit of a special occasion. So wine glasses, please."

Sam rose from the table, setting the paper down, and moved close to Remus. "There's a shop just down the road," Remus said, "You should be able to find something decent there." He shoved a little money into Sam's hand, but Sam stuck it back in Remus's pocket and dropped a quick, light kiss on his cheek.

"I'll be right back," he promised.

Once Remus had heard the front door shut behind Sam, he turned to Teddy. "Plates in the cupboard," he said.

"Yeah, okay." Teddy had finished putting out the cutlery and glasses. Rather pointedly he folded up the newspaper and set it to one side before he brought the plates. Once done, he flung himself into a chair and watched Remus start a saucepan of water boiling for the vegetables.

"Dad."

"Yes?" Remus leaned against the counter and looked at his son. Teddy's hair was magenta, now, a darker shade of the pink that his mother had always favoured.

"Did you..." Teddy paused, visibly changing his mind about what he was going to say. "Um. You're still giving me those lessons, right?"

"I said that I would," Remus reminded him. "I worked out how they'll progress before Sam came over, and I'll talk with you about the first one tomorrow. Remember that you're not to discuss them with anyone, though."

"I know. I won't," said Teddy, sounding indignant. "Tomorrow? Does that mean that Sam is staying overnight?"

"He might. We hadn't really discussed it." Remus cocked his head. Teddy was chewing on the corner of his lip. "Does that bother you?"

Teddy hesitated, then nodded. "I know it shouldn't... and it's not because he's a bloke, honestly it's not."

"I didn't think it was." Remus smiled slightly. "Just that you're not used to thinking of me that way, I expect." Or was he? Given his request? Remus could feel his face beginning to grow a little warm at that possibility, and he turned to put the sprouts in the pan.

"Not until recently, I guess," Teddy responded. "I just..." He trailed off, and Remus turned around again, satisfied that any hint of pink in his cheeks could be explained away by the fact that he had been bending over a steaming pan.

"You just what?" _He's jealous,_ a little voice in the back of his head sing-songed. _Your son is jealous of your lover._ Remus shook his head to shut the voice up and rubbed the back of his neck. "You just what?" he repeated.

Teddy seemed to consider the question for a moment, looking down at his hands, then he shook his head. "Nothing. I mean, as long as our deal is still on, then there's no problem. Right?" It was almost as if his question was meant for himself and not for Remus, so Remus didn't answer, just regarded his son for a long moment.

"Right," Teddy answered himself, shrugging.

"Come here," Remus said, and Teddy dragged himself to his feet and approached. Remus put an arm around his son's shoulders. "What Sam and I have is not the same thing as what you and I have," he said, keeping his voice quiet, deliberate. "That's not to say that either relationship is more important, or more valid. I love you, Ted, and we're still going to do what we've planned, but as long as Sam is here, I need for you to behave respectably. I need you to act like who you are--my son, and only my son. No rivalries, all right? This isn't Quidditch."

Teddy nodded and leaned into his father's embrace, and Remus sighed. Good--he hadn't gone too far, but he'd made his position clear.

"If Sam spends the night," Teddy said, putting both his arms around Remus then and burying his face in his father's cardigan, "Are you going to be having sex?"

Remus grimaced. Of course it couldn't be just that easy.

"That's not really your business," he replied. He gave silent thanks that he wasn't as young as he once was, because he was fairly certain that what he felt pressing against his leg was not Teddy's wand. He also made a mental note that if he and Sam _did_ , which was not unlikely, that he had better be certain to cast a good strong silencing charm first.

"'M sorry," Teddy mumbled. "Just wanted to know."

"You wouldn't want me to be asking _you_ about whether you were having sex, if you had someone stay over at your flat," Remus pointed out.

"Yeah, but..." Teddy's face was flushed and his hair had gone dark again, and Remus suddenly guessed what was bothering him.

"Regardless of what happens between Sam and me, it won't interfere with my plans with you tomorrow." Remus took Teddy's shoulders and pushed him gently away to hold him at arm's length and make sure Teddy met his eyes. "You can trust me for that."

"Okay." Teddy managed a grin. "I do trust you, Dad." He stuck his hands in his pockets, drawing the material tight over his groin, and Remus turned casually away to poke the potatoes to see if they were cooked.

"Go wash your hands, then. Sam will be back at any minute, and the beef should be done." He pulled it out of the oven to rest a few minutes before carving it, and began to dish up the sprouts. He heard Teddy clattering down the hallway, and then heavier footsteps as Sam came into the kitchen.

"I picked up a couple of bottles, while I was at it," he said, putting them on the counter for Remus to see. "You like Merlot, right? And I thought maybe a good whisky would be suitable for after."

Remus gave him a quick kiss. "Thank you."

"Everything straightened out with Teddy?" Sam said quietly.

"I think so. He's still a little... disconcerted by the idea, but he'll be fine."

Sam nodded. "I don't blame him. That's a lot to have to get used to in twenty-four hours."

Remus nodded in agreement. _If only you had any idea,_ he added silently, arranging the potatoes on the platter with the roast and the sprouts. "Ted," he called down the hallway, "Let's eat."

Teddy appeared in the kitchen a moment later, his face a little pink, the lump in his trousers thankfully no longer apparent. "Don't worry," he said, raising his eyebrows at his father, "I washed my hands." Remus gave a tight-lipped smile and turned to open the wine as Teddy slumped into his chair.

Remus took his usual place at the table, the end nearest the stove and the sink, and Sam sat at his left. There was a distinct silence as the strange semblance of a family regarded the beautiful roast Remus had prepared. He and Teddy had had guests over before--one or two of whom Remus had even been sleeping with, though Teddy hadn't known it--but this time Remus felt as though he were balanced on some precarious ledge.

"Shall I serve the roast, Dad?" Teddy asked, jarring Remus from his reverie.

"Yes, please," Remus replied, and Teddy did, heaping a couple of extra slices onto Sam's plate, then adding a large pile of potatoes and sprouts.

"Trying to fatten me up?" Sam asked, his voice jovial.

Teddy opened his mouth to reply and Remus shot him a warning look. Teddy raised his eyebrows at Remus as if to protest his innocence, then turned back to Sam.

"Isn't my dad a good cook? I thought I'd give you a little extra, since he said he doesn't often get to cook for you."

"Mmm," Sam agreed, "This is a rare treat." He grinned over at Remus, and Remus tapped Sam's foot affectionately with his own under the table.

"Are you going to have breakfast with us in the morning?" Teddy asked then, and Remus choked on a sip of Merlot. It was an innocent enough question, but Remus had a feeling Teddy was playing a game.

"I might," Sam replied coolly, spearing a potato with his fork, "If I were to be invited."

"Well," Teddy replied, twirling his own fork in the air, "That's up to my dad. I just wanted to let you know, though, that he and I have got plans for tomorrow. After breakfast, of course." He pointed the fork at Sam to punctuate his point, and Remus shifted in his chair and coughed to indicate to Teddy that this would be a good time for the conversation to end.

"Is that so?" Sam regarded Teddy for a long moment, then leaned forward a little. "Teddy, I'm not trying to come between you and your father, all right? I like your dad a lot, and I like you, too, from what I've seen so far. Let's be friends. Can we?"

Remus gave Teddy a sharp look. _No more, Teddy. No more._

Teddy deflated a little, looking down at his plate, and Remus felt relief well up inside him. It really wasn't like Teddy to act so rudely towards anyone, no matter what the situation, and Remus had thought for a moment he might have to excuse himself and speak to Teddy privately again.

"You trust me, don't you, Teddy?" Remus asked, and a smile broke on Teddy's face.

"I trust you, Dad," he replied, and the rest of the meal passed without incident.

After dinner they adjourned to the living room and Sam opened the bottle of whisky, giving Teddy a small glass after glancing at Remus to see that it was all right.

"Teddy--or do you prefer Ted?" Sam asked.

"Oh. Er. Either one is okay," Teddy answered, sipping at his drink with an expression that suggested he wasn't sure if he liked it.

"That hair colour-changing thing you do, Ted. How does it work?"

"I'm a Metamorphmagus. My mum was, too." Teddy's voice was proud. "I can change pretty much anything about my appearance. Hair colour, skin colour, height, weight... although not completely. My mass doesn't change when I do it." He grinned. "Want to see?"

There was a glint in his eyes that Remus didn't quite like, but he stayed quiet.

"Sure," said Sam amiably.

Teddy wrinkled his nose, concentrating. His hair turned a mousy brown with a good deal of grey in it, his shoulders broadened a little, and scars began to appear on his skin.

Sam laughed. "I see you can mimic other people very well. You look almost exactly like your dad, well done."

"Show him something more interesting. Sam knows what I look like," Remus put in.

"Okay. This is Lily's favourite."

"His godfather's daughter," Remus explained to Sam, who nodded. They watched as Teddy's hair went bright lime green, his eyes turned a quite shocking purple, and his cheekbones and jaw became more prominent.

"Bravo!" Sam applauded. "That would've been a great talent for me to have when I was young."

Teddy returned himself to normal, grinning at Sam's enthusiastic reception. "Yeah? Why's that?"

Sam took a swallow of whisky and looked at Remus. Remus shrugged and gestured for Sam to continue.

"Well," said Sam, "Did you ever hear of a rock group called the Hobgoblins?"

Teddy wrinkled his nose and screwed up his mouth. Remus smiled to himself as he watched Teddy trying to recall. There were a couple of old Hobgoblins record albums in Remus's collection, but he couldn't remember the last time he'd played them.

"I don't think so," Teddy replied, "Why?"

Remus laughed out loud. "I told you it wouldn't mean anything to him," he said, grinning and raising his glass in a toast to Teddy, who looked a little annoyed.

"What wouldn't mean anything to me?" he demanded, swirling the whisky in the glass. He might have looked sophisticated were it not for the fact that he was barefoot and curled up in the overstuffed chair like a much younger version of himself. Not to mention that his hair was still a shocking shade of green.

Sam smiled and shrugged. "I was in a band once," he said, "And I swear I would've given anything to have your talent so I could go out in public without being recognised and mobbed by girls asking for my autograph."

"Just your autograph?" Remus asked, a hint of mischief in his tone.

Sam laughed again and stretched. "For purposes of this conversation, yes," he replied, grinning, then he turned back to Teddy. "They used to call me Stubby, but I'm just Sam Boardman now. Just a regular bloke, but I still wouldn't mind being able to turn my hair blond or shrink a few inches when I see those same girls--they're all so much older now--approaching me in the street. You can always tell by the way they turn their heads and stare for a while--they recall their old record albums and they wonder."

He winked at Teddy. "You probably know what it's like. I imagine you've got yourself quite the entourage."

Teddy squirmed uncomfortably, his face reddening. "I don't know. Maybe."

"Now that he's not in school, it's a bit different, right Ted?" intervened Remus.

"Yeah. I was going out with Victoire my last year at Hogwarts, and she made it pretty clear that the other girls were off-limits," Teddy mumbled.

Remus noted that he didn't mention boys, and wondered if Victoire knew that Teddy had done some experimenting in that direction, or not. Either way, now was not the time to ask, but he filed the thought away for later.

"That's Bill Weasley's daughter; she's one-eighth Veela," he told Sam.

"Oh, well then." Sam laughed. "No competition. Even an old queer like me could be tempted by a part-Veela girl... if she weren't so young. I like a bit of experience." He patted Remus's leg.

Teddy grew even pinker, but he didn't say anything.

"Experience can certainly be advantageous," Remus agreed, carefully not looking at Teddy as he spoke, and squeezing Sam's hand. "Sam, would you pour me just a bit more?"

"Of course." Sam refilled Remus's glass, and his own. "Teddy?"

"No, thank you," Teddy said. "Um. Maybe I'll just go up to my room and listen to some music, or something." He stood up, looking a little forlorn.

"We'll see you in the morning then," Remus said. "If you're going to play music, I do have a couple of the Hobgoblins' albums, you know. They're on that bottom shelf in my study."

"Wicked." Teddy brightened. "I'll give them a try." He was in the office for a few minutes, during which Sam smoothed his hand up Remus's thigh and squeezed gently in a very sensitive spot. Remus laughed low and swatted his hand away.

"Can't you wait until my son goes upstairs?" he murmured, and Sam grinned stupidly and shook his head and leaned in for a kiss just as Teddy emerged from the office, two record albums clutched in his hands.

"Oh, come _on_ ," Teddy groaned, lifting the records to cover his face. Remus and Sam moved apart as Teddy stormed up the stairs.

"Good night," he called after him, "And use a bloody silencing spell if you do it!"

This set Sam to laughing so hard that he choked on his whisky. Remus pounded him on the back, his own amusement mingling with concern for Teddy.

Music began, then, from the direction of Teddy's room: a wailing guitar signalling the introduction to the Hobgoblins' debut record, _History of Magic_.

"Oh, god," Sam moaned, "You've got _that_ record?"

Remus grinned and closed his eyes, remembering spending long hours in his room listening to _History of Magic_ over and over again. He'd been intrigued by the photograph on the album cover, a young man with dark hair falling over his face and brooding eyes, his jacket slung carelessly over his shoulder, the look on his face almost daring Remus to play the record. Remus's new crush hadn't moved very much in the photograph, merely running one sinewy hand up and down his chest and shaking the hair out of his eyes once in a while, only to have it fall right back again.

"It's a brilliant record," he said, moving closer to Sam and running his hands down the chest which was no longer as slim as it had been when Sam was eighteen and just starting his short-lived musical career.

"Hardly," Sam demurred, but he touched Remus's cheek, his fingertips stroking along the line of Remus's jaw and down to his mouth. Remus opened it to suck them gently.

"It was," Remus contradicted when Sam had pulled his fingers away again and was starting to unbutton Remus's cardigan. "Practically every teenaged witch and wizard in Britain owned it, and I remember reading that it sold phenomenally well in the rest of the wizarding world too... and even amongst the Muggles."

Sam looked embarrassed. "Popular, yeah, but I wouldn't say it was musically brilliant. I'm surprised you remember that kind of detail."

"Of course I do." Remus nuzzled at Sam's neck. He wasn't going to tell Sam that part of what had first drawn him to Sirius was his friend's resemblance to the ultra-cool Stubby. Sirius had been handsome enough on his own, anyhow. "The Hobgoblins were the sound of my generation. It was a tragedy when the band broke up."

"Mm." Sam had slipped his hand inside Remus's waistband. "You wouldn't have wanted us to be like Celestina Warbeck, though, going on and on and on forever, sounding just the same."

Remus caught back a moan as Sam brushed along his eager cock. "Maybe we should move this to the bedroom? Even if I suspect Teddy won't dare to emerge again tonight."

Making love with Sam with Teddy just down the hall made the experience more intense, Remus decided as they lay together afterward, both of them drowsy and sated. Not because of the possibility that Teddy might overhear--Remus had cast a good strong silencing spell--but because having his son know the truth of his relationship with his lover somehow deepened it. Sam had understood why Remus had kept his preferences private, and had never pressured Remus to tell, but it was clear that he was pleased to have Teddy aware of the situation. Sam himself was fairly discreet in public, and Remus doubted that the two of them would ever be otherwise; they both had too much to lose.

"Good thing I bought extra sausages, since you're staying for breakfast," he murmured.

Sam chuckled. "Yours is the only one I need."

Remus swatted him and kissed him, and drifted off to sleep with a smile on his face.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teddy's first lesson teaches him both less and more than he expected.

Teddy woke late, sun streaming in his window and falling across his eyes. He groaned and rolled over and struggled to a sitting position, shoving the hair from his face. There were voices coming from downstairs, and he could smell the faint aroma of sausages, which perked him up somewhat.

He rose and stretched, rolling his head around and around on his shoulders, trying to figure out why he was so bloody tired, and then his gaze landed on his record player. Right. Those albums. He'd stayed up quite late playing _History of Magic_ and then all four sides of the double album _Nom de Guerre_ , which he thought might be worth a second listen. The Hobgoblins really weren't bad, he'd decided, even if their music was more than a little dated.

Teddy moved to the bathroom and pissed away his morning erection, then brushed his teeth, humming a song from _History of Magic_ that had been running through his head while he slept. He was still humming it as he arrived in the kitchen to find that the sausages had long gone cold, there was no hot water for tea, and Sam was taking his leave, kissing Remus goodbye, his clothes looking decidedly rumpled and the shadow of a beard appearing on his face.

"What's going on?" Teddy asked, frowning.

Remus broke the kiss. "I'm sorry, Teddy--I didn't hear you come downstairs. Sam was just leaving, I'm afraid, so it's a good thing you woke when you did."

Sam smiled and clapped Teddy on the shoulders. "I've got to be on my way," he explained, "But I think if I play my cards right, your dad might invite me 'round again soon." He winked, then took out his wand and pointed it at the sausages that were left in the pan, muttering a spell to reheat them. "Enjoy your breakfast, Ted," he said then, "and it was lovely to finally meet you."

"You, too." Teddy shook Sam's hand, feeling stiff and formal for doing so, but he wasn't quite ready for anything more demonstrative. Sam was a decent fellow, he decided as he watched from the corner of his eye as Sam kissed Remus once more, and plainly the two of them were quite happy together. He switched on the kettle and helped himself to sausages and cold toast.

"How long have you been seeing Sam?" he asked Remus a few minutes later, when Sam was gone and Remus was puttering around, clearing up and making another pot of tea.

"About a year." Remus sat down across from Teddy, curving his hands around the warm cup.

"Do you think the two of you might live together?" Teddy wasn't sure how he felt about that possibility. This house had always been just his and his father's, and even though he'd moved out into his own flat and would only be back to visit, like this weekend, the idea of having someone else living there was strange, like an itch between the shoulder blades.

"We haven't discussed it," said Remus. He took a sip of his tea. "Remember, you didn't even know about us--or that I like men--until two days ago. Sam's not very pushy about that sort of thing. And we're both old enough and used enough to having our own space that it would take some real adjustment if we were to live together. I really haven't considered it."

"I see." Teddy forked up an entire sausage and took a bite off one end.

"Don't do that," said Remus automatically. "Cut it."

"Yes, Dad," Teddy replied with mock-penitence. He did as instructed, then started on his toast, eating an entire slice in three bites.

Remus raised an eyebrow at him. "You're certainly hungry this morning." Teddy swallowed and nodded, grateful that his father hadn't instructed him on how to eat his toast as well. He tapped his feet on the legs of his chair as he started on another sausage, being certain to cut it this time.

"It's a good breakfast," he declared, "but I'm sort of looking forward to the rest of our day."

"Ah," said Remus, after a long sip of tea, "Of course you are." His expression was unreadable, and Teddy paused, a bite of sausage halfway to his mouth.

"We're still going to--"

"I said we would, Ted," Remus interrupted, "When are you going to start believing me?"

 _Approximately five seconds after you put your cock in my arse_ , Teddy thought, and he blushed and shoved sausage in his mouth. "Sorry," he mumbled, "it just seems like it shouldn't be true."

Remus nodded and stood, refilling his teacup. "Finish your breakfast and take a shower," he instructed. "I want to see you in my study in exactly thirty minutes." And with that, he left the kitchen.

Teddy scrambled to finish his breakfast and rinse his plate in the sink, then dashed upstairs for a shower, for once not taking the time to wank. He towelled his hair dry, then stared in the mirror in his bedroom for far too long trying to decide what colour it should be. He settled on a sedate medium brown, fully aware that his father wasn't overly fond of the explosive neon shades, then threw on a pair of jeans and a soft blue shirt, leaving the top two buttons undone and rolling the sleeves up to his elbows. He regarded himself in the mirror, and, satisfied, took a deep breath and made his way downstairs.

His father wasn't behind his desk today, but in one of the armchairs. He had a book open on his lap, and a stack of books and magazines on the table next to him. "Go ahead and sit down," he told Teddy, who sat obediently in the other chair and pulled one knee up to his chin, waiting.

"All right." Remus handed Teddy a long sheet of parchment. "I've made out a schedule of lessons for you. This is the order; I don't have any dates on them because that will depend on both of our schedules, and also because, as you'll see, there will be homework for you in between the lessons and I'll want you to have mastered each before we move on. Look this over and see what you think."

Teddy took it eagerly, but scanned the list with some dismay. No penetration until the very last lesson? Not even real wanking the first time? He looked up, wanting to object, but remembered when he met Remus's gaze that he'd promised to obey his father's decisions completely in these lessons, or there would be no more of them. He swallowed his disappointment and read the list again, more carefully this time.

"I've heard about some other, um, kinky stuff that some blokes like," he said when he'd finished. "Could that be added on?"

"What did you have in mind?"

Was his father blushing? Teddy couldn't quite tell, since Remus had a cup of tea and was sipping at it.

"Um... like bondage?" His voice squeaked a little on the word.

"Look at number five, Ted."

 _Oh._ "I missed that," he mumbled. "Sorry."

"But if there is something in particular you want to learn about--something that isn't there--I am open to discussing the possibility of additional lessons." Remus coughed. "Bear in mind that there may be things that I do not enjoy, and would only teach in a theoretical sort of way. Hence the books." He gestured at the pile beside him.

Teddy nodded. Fair enough. His gaze flickered over the books, but most had plain covers with no title on the spines, and his thoughts went wild wondering what they could possibly contain.

He scanned the parchment again. "So the first lesson is--touch?" _I_ know _how to touch_ , he wanted to add, but he kept silent.

Remus nodded, draining the last of the tea from his cup and setting it on the saucer on the table beside him, careful not to upset the stack of books. "Let's talk a bit before we get to the practical part of the lesson," he said. "Tell me. What do you know about touch?"

It was an open-ended question, and Teddy fumbled a bit for the correct answer, wondering if there really was one.

"Um... I mean, it feels good... I like to touch myself..." he trailed off and sighed and his shoulders slumped. "I guess I don't really know what you want me to say."

Remus shook his head. "There are no right or wrong answers in these lessons, Ted. Just tell me what you know. For instance, when you touch yourself, in bed at night, perhaps, or in your morning shower, do you touch any part of your body besides the obvious?"

"No. I mean--just my prick, and my bollocks." He paused. "Sometimes I touch my, um, arsehole. Just the outside."

"And the others with whom you've experimented," said Remus, not missing a beat, "how have they touched you?"

Teddy swallowed. "Mostly, um, the same. Without the arsehole bit." Teddy wondered honestly what other body parts could possibly be interesting places to touch. Victoire had insisted on heaps of attention being paid to her breasts, but Teddy had felt little or no excitement when he'd thumbed over his own nipples.

"Hm. Fair enough. All right, Ted, did you know that the skin is an organ? It's the largest one in the human body, and it sends us all kinds of messages. Here, hold out your arm. Palm up."

Confused, Teddy did so. His father ran one finger lightly along the skin from wrist to elbow, stopping where the fabric of the sleeve ended, and Teddy shivered.

"That makes my hairs stand on end," he complained.

"Close your eyes," Remus told him. "Focus on what it feels like."

"Okay." He expected to feel the same touch, but this time Remus just brushed lightly over the skin at the crook of his elbow, sideways.

"Tickles!" Teddy protested.

He felt his father take his hand, holding it firmly so that he couldn't jerk away. There was a pinch, then another, not hard enough to hurt. A pause, and then again a light stroke the length of his arm. One warm fingertip traced a spiral on his palm.

"How does that feel?" asked Remus, his voice low.

"Good," said Teddy with some surprise. The sensation on his palm, in particular, seemed to send a kind of tingle through the rest of his body.

"That's just your hand and arm, which are exposed every day to random touches and bumps." Remus's fingers traced upward again to Teddy's elbow. "You can open your eyes again now."

Teddy did, blinking as he grew accustomed to the light. "I don't think that would feel as good if I were doing it to myself," he said. He followed the line his father had traced on his skin with his own fingernail--it tickled a little, but the sensation wasn't nearly as pleasurable as when Remus had been the one touching him.

"No," Remus said, "It doesn't, probably because you're _expecting_ the touch--you know exactly where you're going to touch yourself, how hard, and for how long. It's the same reason a person can't tickle himself." He paused, regarding Teddy, and licked his lips. "Trail one finger down the side of your neck," he instructed, and Teddy did so.

"Okay," he said when he'd finished, "And?"

"It didn't feel like much, I expect."

"Nope." Teddy shrugged.

"Lean back, now, and close your eyes." Teddy did, and he heard his father's chair creak as Remus stood and moved behind Teddy's chair. There was a moment of stillness, and then Remus's hand brushed Teddy's hair away from his face and gentle fingertips touched him behind his ear and trailed down his neck, onto his throat, and back up again.

Teddy gasped. "Oh, my _god_ ," he whispered, trying to control the shiver that ran up his spine. He kept his eyes closed and tipped his head back and to one side, exposing more of his neck and throat in the hope that his father would touch him just like that again.

And Remus did, using his fingernails this time, and Teddy whimpered at the heightened sensation. He arched up toward his father's hand as Remus's touch moved lower, past the hollow at the base of Teddy's throat and dipping just inside his shirt, tracing a circle just over his heart before moving back up and ending with Remus cupping Teddy's chin in his palm, stroking along Teddy's jaw with his thumb.

" _Wow_." Teddy swallowed. "Can I open my eyes?"

"Yes."

Teddy twisted his head to look up at his father, whose expression held more than a hint of smugness.

"Okay, I get it. There's a lot more to touch than I thought," Teddy admitted. "I always figured it was only girls who liked that, having their tits fondled and so forth."

"Some girls do, some don't. Some men do, some don't. It's different for every person." Remus hesitated, then let go of Teddy's face and sat back down again. Teddy tried not to be too obvious about looking, but he was almost sure that his father had a hard-on that matched his own.

"Some girls don't like having their breasts touched?" Teddy asked.

"That's right. Or maybe it needs to be very gentle, if you do touch them, or--well, you know about women's cycles, I expect." Remus didn't seem to want to look at Teddy when he said that, which seemed funny. "Sometimes a woman might like it rough during one part of her cycle, but gentler or not at all at another time of the month." His mouth quirked in a grin. "As a werewolf I probably understand that better than most men would, ironically enough."

"That makes sense." Teddy thought about it. "Yeah. Um. That's not all for this lesson, is it?" He tried not to sound as if he were begging, but he very much wanted his father to touch him like that some more... and, he hoped, he would be allowed to do some touching back.

Remus shook his head. "No, but I want to give you a couple of books to read--you can take them back with you tonight--and give you something to practise over the week. I've made up the bed in the spare room, and then we'll go in there. I think it's better that we not use either of our rooms for this."

Teddy nodded. A neutral space would be best. It would be too strange having his father touch him so intimately in his childhood bedroom, filled with his old toys and remembrances of his school years, and his father's bedroom, well, that was where his father did things with Sam. It would be brilliant to have the spare room become _their_ room instead of just the place where guests stayed when they visited and where Remus kept all the books that wouldn't fit on the shelves in his study or in his bedroom.

"Can we go up there now, Dad? Maybe you could show me the books up there and everything." Teddy didn't much fancy climbing the stairs with his hard prick demanding attention, but he thought it might not be so bad if his father had to experience the same thing. And besides, the sooner they were in the guest room, the sooner they'd be on the bed--and the sooner Remus would be touching him all over. Teddy wondered if he'd get to take off all his clothes--if his father would be naked, too--if he'd get to wank after.

 _Hands, mouth_ , his father had written on the parchment, but kisses and blowjobs were a separate lesson. Teddy wondered what his father could do with his mouth that wasn't kissing--and he wondered if he'd get to try it on his father as well.

Remus selected two slim volumes from the stack on the table and stood, holding them in front of his crotch. He extended a hand to Teddy and helped him from his chair. Teddy didn't bother to hide his own erection--after all, his father was the one responsible for it, and he probably knew it was there anyway.

"Let's go upstairs, then," Remus said, and Teddy didn't let go of his hand as they made their way to the spare bedroom.

Remus closed the door behind them and turned the lamps on low. Teddy stood by the bed, suddenly uncertain. The presence of an actual _bed_ made everything somehow more real, and even though Teddy knew his father wasn't going to shag him, still he trembled.

"Teddy?"

His childhood name. Remus usually tried to call him "Ted," these days, but sometimes he slipped. Teddy didn't mind, most of the time; he still thought of himself as "Teddy" anyhow. But this time...

"We don't have to do this, you know," said his father very quietly, still on the far side of the bed, one hand on the lamp switch. "If you're uncomfortable, all you have to do is to say so, and that'll be the end of it for today. Then you can think about whether this is really what you want."

Teddy swallowed. "I know." He realised that he'd absentmindedly turned his hair blue, and changed it back to brown again. "I want to do it. Really, I do."

"All right." Remus still looked a little doubtful, but he accepted Teddy's statement. "Take your shoes off. We're just going to look at the books briefly to start with." He suited his own actions to his words, sitting on the edge of the bed to pull his shoes off and set them neatly beside it. Then he unbuttoned and removed his cardigan, saying, "Since you only have a shirt on, I should, too."

That seemed fair to Teddy. When Remus was settled, leaning against the pillows at the head of the bed, he beckoned Teddy to sit next to him and put an arm around him. One book was already open in his lap, and the other was beside him.

"Some of the pictures in here go rather beyond touching," Remus said, flipping over several pages. They certainly did; Teddy thought he saw one which looked remarkably like the way Remus and Sam had when he'd walked in on them. "I've marked the ones I want you to look at today, though."

He showed Teddy a picture with a man who looked to be about thirty, his body filled out without being overly muscular. The man was merely running his hands along his own torso and thighs, not actually touching his cock, but he was clearly enjoying it very much judging from the size of the erection he was sporting.

"I chose wizarding books," Remus pointed out unnecessarily. "There are some remarkably finely-done Muggle books, but I thought that seeing the pictures move would be more useful, this time at least." He turned to the next spot he'd marked, which showed a pair of men, lying down face to face, one running his fingers along the underneath of the other man's raised arm, tugging at the hair of his armpit. Again, Teddy could see how much the caress aroused its recipient; his mouth was slightly open, his eyes closed, and his prick erect.

Teddy's own erection hadn't subsided--in fact, he was even harder than he'd been when his father had been running his fingers down his neck and throat. The combination of the dim lights, the proximity of his father, and the erotic images were making him harder than he'd ever been when it was Victoire's arm around him.

He reached out a hand to turn the page to the next picture his father had marked, and he sucked in a breath at the sight. One wizard ran his fingertips down the spine of his partner, then down lower and lower, to his arsehole, and pressed lightly there, making his partner arch up, a silent cry escaping from his reddened lips.

"As you can see, Teddy," Remus said, causing Teddy to smile a little at his father's continued use of his childhood nickname, "The combination of different types of touch--the gentle, caressing fingertip down his spine, then firm and certain pressure in one of the body's most sensitive spots, can be incredibly erotic. Even breath on the skin can be stimulating, especially if it's followed by another, firmer touch." Remus's voice was gentle, soothing, and Teddy found himself leaning into his father's embrace.

"Breath?" he asked, a little sceptical.

"Oh, yes," Remus replied, "Absolutely. In fact, that's one of the things I'd planned to show you today. Shall we begin with that?"

Teddy nodded. Oh, god. They'd actually arrived at the _touching_ part of the lesson on touching.

He sat up. "Shall I, um, take this off?" he asked, tugging at his shirt collar.

"Not yet," Remus answered, laying a calming hand on his shoulder. "There will be plenty of time for that later. Why don't we just lie on the bed, facing each other?" He patted the quilt beside him.

Teddy's heart was pounding as he scooted down, lying on his side. "Like this?"

"That's good." Remus was only a few inches away, propped up on one elbow. He leaned a little closer and blew on Teddy's neck, where he'd been sweating with nervous anticipation, and immediately soothed Teddy's resulting shiver by trailing his warm fingertips there too, tracing a path from his jaw to his collarbone.

"Oh," Teddy gasped.

Remus moved closer yet. His lips weren't quite touching Teddy's skin--that was supposed to be the third lesson, kissing, Teddy remembered hazily--but the damp warmth of his breath was almost a caress in itself, just as he'd said. He travelled from Teddy's chin up to his exposed ear and paused there. Teddy pressed his palm against his cock, through his trousers. He'd never felt so aroused when he wasn't almost at orgasm, and he didn't want to come in his pants so soon and mess up the lesson.

"You see?" Remus murmured in his ear, and Teddy nodded. Remus lifted his head, then, and again drew his fingers along Teddy's skin, this time from the ear down to the nape of his neck, stroking lightly at the wisps of soft hair that curled there.

"I've always found this spot particularly sensitive," said Remus, "but that's not to say you necessarily will. As I said earlier, everyone's different, and part of the fun of being with someone new is finding out all the places where he enjoys being touched, and how."

"'S nice." Teddy arched his neck, turning his head so that Remus could reach more. "But the ear was even better."

"So, that's something to remember. And it can vary, some, depending on the kind of touch, and even who you're with." Remus had moved his hand back and was tracing a spiral into Teddy's ear. "I've known men who liked being pinched hard on the nipples, but a gentle touch did nothing for them, and others who were exactly the opposite."

"Will you show me?" begged Teddy.

"Certainly," Remus breathed, and the formal reply in such an intimate context made Teddy's mouth twist into a smile.

"Let's get your shirt off," Remus said then, and Teddy sat up, feeling weak, allowing his father to undo the buttons of his shirt and push it from his shoulders. It was as if he were a child again, his father undressing him for bed, but when he was a child his father's hands had never smoothed along the skin of his shoulders and arms like they did now, and _bed_ had had an entirely different meaning.

Teddy shivered as he was exposed to his father's gaze, knowing that the hands which now dropped his shirt onto the floor would soon be roaming over his skin, teaching and teasing.

"What about your shirt, Dad?" Teddy asked, his voice half-stuck in his throat. He coughed a little. "Can I--?" He moved forward and reached for the button's of his father's shirt.

He felt Remus tense under his touch, then relax as Teddy began to undo each button, finally pushing the shirt from his shoulders the way his father had done to his, and dropping it on the floor on top of his own.

"That's fair," Teddy declared when he had finished. His father had much more hair on his chest than the light dusting that ran down the centre of Teddy's breastbone, and Teddy longed to run his fingers through it, rub his cheek against it, kiss the skin that lay beneath it. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, pressing the heel of his hand against his erection, willing himself to focus on the task at hand instead of losing control like the schoolboy that he no longer was.

"Teddy." Teddy opened his eyes and swallowed hard as his father brought a hand up and ran it down Teddy's arm from shoulder to wrist, then held loosely onto his wrist as if to stabilise himself while he caressed Teddy's collarbone with the back of his other hand. He shifted, then, turning his hand so he could scrape his fingernails lightly down and across a nipple, and Teddy jerked and cried out.

"Do it again--please--" he babbled, and Remus obliged, scraping his nails once again over the same nipple. Teddy's cock jerked in his pants and he cried out again, wordlessly, feeling control beginning to slip away.

"Here," his father murmured, his voice husky, and then he pinched Teddy's other nipple, tugging and twisting, not hard enough to really _hurt_... and Teddy couldn't help it, the heat rushed down from his chest to his cock and exploded in a pulse of wet warmth.

He was embarrassed that he hadn't been able to hold himself back, and ducked his head to avoid Remus's eyes. Even the first time he'd messed around with Lawrence Kettering in the Quidditch changing rooms, he hadn't come so fast, and Lawrence had been touching his prick. _He didn't even kiss me, or touch my cock, and I came. I didn't even think I liked being touched there, and I came._

"Sh, Teddy, it's all right." His father's arms went around him, pulling him close, hands rubbing his back comfortingly. He smelled faintly of tea and wool, with a sharper scent of sweat and musk. The curls on his chest felt nice against Teddy's skin, and so did the bulge of his cock, hard against Teddy's thigh. It made Teddy feel a little better to know that his father was so aroused too, even if he hadn't lost control as Teddy had... though of course Teddy hadn't been touching him, either.

Pressed against Remus's shoulder, Teddy breathed carefully, in and out, until his heartbeat slowed. He felt sticky and awkward despite his father's reassurance.

When Teddy's breathing was calmer, Remus relaxed his embrace and pulled back enough to take Teddy's chin, tilting his head up and forcing him to meet his father's eyes.

"It's all right," Remus said again. "Shall we go on?"

Teddy nodded. "Can I touch you, now?" He reached down to adjust his clothes so they weren't pulling at him so much.

"Yes, you may." Remus evidently understood what Teddy was doing, for he added, "We can stop and clean up first if you'd like?"

"Maybe later," said Teddy, not wanting to interrupt the lesson any more than he already had. "Um, is there anything in particular I should do?"

"Just try different things, and see how I react," Remus told him. "Although that's a good instinct, Ted, to talk to the person you're with about what he likes."

"Okay," Teddy mumbled, "I'll remember that." He was glad he'd done the right thing, but he was still flooded with the heat of embarrassment, and the sticky patch between his thighs did nothing to abate it.

He brought a hand up to Remus's chest, intending to mimic what his father had done to him, but he found himself combing though Remus's curls, then leaning closer, needing to breathe in the heady scent of his father once again.

He thumbed over a nipple, causing it to stand at attention, and he smiled when Remus let out a little moan. Encouraged, he scraped over it with a nail as his father had done to him, and Remus stiffened.

"Not quite so hard," he murmured, putting a reassuring hand on Teddy's shoulder. Teddy used his the pads of his thumbs on both his father's nipples, then, keeping his touch firm yet gentle, and Remus made a low rumbling noise in the back of his throat.

"Brilliant, Teddy," Remus said, "You're a natural. Do you remember what I said earlier, about cycles?"

Teddy nodded, tugging a little at his father's chest hair.

"Well--oh, do keep doing that--you may find, during our lessons, that at other times of the month I might appreciate a rougher touch--fingernails, perhaps, or pinching and twisting, as I was doing to you. It's good to ask your partner what he needs, but hopefully your partner will also be communicative."

Teddy nodded again. "Okay."

"I may not always let you know what I need during our lessons. Sometimes I'll want you to discover it on your own. It's a skill that will serve you well." Remus paused. "Why don't you explore a little more and see what else I like?"

Teddy realised his hands had stopped moving. One was perched on his father's bicep and the other was tangled in a whorl of hair at the centre of his chest. "Right," he said, and he moved them both downwards, trembling, over Remus's belly, to the waist of his trousers.

"We're going to leave touching cocks for the next lesson," Remus reminded him.

"I remember, but you listed hips and thighs," said Teddy. His father nodded acceptance as Teddy undid the button and zip, and even raised his hips to let Teddy pull his trousers down.

The white cotton did nothing to conceal Remus's erection, visibly dark with blood even through the fabric, a small wet spot apparent near the tip of his cock. Teddy swallowed, wanting badly to touch it, but he contented himself with stroking along the crease of his father's thigh, where the scattered hairs were a little damp with sweat. He crawled backward on the bed so that his face was only inches away from where he'd been touching. The scent of Remus was strong, familiar from childhood and yet now more than that, making Teddy's cock start to harden again. He rubbed his cheek against his father's thigh, hoping that this was an allowed touch, since he wasn't using his lips, and felt Remus quiver slightly, his legs parting a few inches more.

That must be good, then. Teddy guessed that it might be the roughness of his skin--he hadn't shaved that morning--that Remus liked, but he tried stroking over the same spot with his palm, to check. Remus hummed a little. Maybe it was just the place after all. Teddy repeated the stroke with one hand, propping his head on the other so that he could look at Remus's face.

Remus gave him a smile and said, a little breathlessly, "That's very good."

"Could you take off your underpants, too? And turn over?" Seeing how much Remus was enjoying this made Teddy brave.

"We could both finish undressing, I suppose," Remus agreed.

Teddy hurriedly stripped off his own jeans and sticky underwear, rather awkwardly as he didn't bother to stand up, just wriggled out of them and shoved them to the floor. He gulped when he turned back and saw his father completely naked, a network of scars covering much of his body, though partly concealed by greying brown hair on torso and legs. His cock was a little thicker than Teddy's own was when he was hard, but not any longer.

He reasoned with himself. He mustn't touch his father's cock. He could stare all he liked, but he absolutely must _not_ touch it. He'd agreed to Remus's schedule and rules, and he wasn't going to break either.

But _god_ , how he ached to reach out and wrap his fingers around it, thicker than the ones he'd touched at school. His mouth actually began to water as he imagined tasting it, heavy and salty on his tongue, imagined licking over the ridge of foreskin, dipping his tongue into the slit where even now clear fluid was threatening to spill over.

No-- _no_. Teddy shook his head and blew out a shaky breath, dragging his eyes up to his father's face, which held a bemused expression.

"I just--" Teddy struggled to explain, "Sorry, I just, I mean, you know, I've seen them before, and my own, of course, but never really got to take a proper _look_ , you know, except in magazines--it was always so quick, and sometimes dark, and half the time we both still had our clothes on, and--"

"Sh. It's okay. You can look all you like." His father held out a hand, and Teddy took it and moved closer, curling into his father's lap, resting his head on his father's heated thigh and studying his erection, which pulsed and throbbed vaguely--Teddy swore he could almost _hear_ it. He inhaled, closing his eyes for a moment. He couldn't get enough of his father's scent, and his own cock gave an interested twitch with each inhalation.

He stroked his palm over Remus's thigh, then up into the patch of curls just above Remus's cock. Remus tensed.

"Careful," he breathed, "that's not until next time," and Teddy moved his hand away, down the crease between his father's thigh and groin. He skipped over his father's tight, heavy bollocks, reasoning with himself that they counted as cock and therefore were off limits for now.

His hand crept back, back, and Remus tensed as Teddy's fingertips danced around the pucker of his arsehole. Teddy swallowed hard.

"Dad? Can you turn over now, please?"

Remus hesitated for a moment, but to Teddy's relief he nodded acquiescence. Teddy sat up to let him roll over.

There were many fewer scars on his father's back, which made sense, as Teddy knew most of the injuries had been self-inflicted before the Wolfsbane Potion had been available. Remus settled down, his head turned towards Teddy and pillowed on one forearm. "Go ahead."

Teddy started at the nape of Remus's neck, thinking of the last picture they'd looked at and resisting the urge to go straight to his father's arse. He trailed his fingertips slowly downward, bending over and blowing short puffs of air on each vertebra. On a sudden impulse, he stopped when he was about halfway down and instead brushed over the curve where Remus's arm met his side, tugging at the tuft of hair. Remus groaned and Teddy saw him shift his hips, his legs opening wider.

He didn't want to tickle by accident--he was ticklish there himself--so he only tugged again gently a few times, watching the flush rise on his father's face, then went back to his spine and resumed his path downward.

With Remus's thighs parted, Teddy could see the back of his bollocks, wrinkled skin drawn tight. He cupped his hand over each cheek in turn, the flesh not so firm as his own but not flabby, either, before he drew them apart and looked at the place he'd touched so briefly a few minutes before, and which he'd never seen on _anyone_ really, not up close like this. The occasional glimpse as one of his dorm mates bent over hardly counted.

There were fine hairs around the wrinkled brown hole. As Teddy reached, willing his fingers not to tremble, it flexed under his touch. _Can't go inside._ The next lesson, he thought, it might be allowed as part of "hands", although he wasn't quite sure if maybe he'd have to wait for the final lesson on penetration.

"Ah," Remus breathed heavily. "Ted, that's... that's enough there for now."

Obedient, although disappointed, Teddy moved his hands away and smoothed them along the backs of his father's thighs instead, still careful to avoid brushing the loose skin of Remus's sac.

"You could try my feet," Remus suggested.

Teddy wrinkled his nose. "Your feet?"

Remus nodded, and Teddy cocked his head to the side. "But won't that tickle?" Teddy's own feet were incredibly ticklish--he flashed suddenly on an image of Remus tickling his feet when he was a boy until he was laughing so hard that he cried, his sides aching, as he gasped for air and begged his father to stop.

"Not if you touch them properly," Remus answered, turning over and settling himself against the pillows, his hands clasped over his stomach. "Try a firm touch--no fingernails."

Teddy nodded and trailed his fingertips down his father's thighs, past the hills of his knees and down his calves to the tops of his feet. "What, here?"

"Well--the soles are more sensitive," Remus replied. "Think of this touch as more of a massage than anything else. Massage can be intensely erotic when done properly."

Teddy hadn't the first clue how to give a proper foot massage, but he did his best, starting at his father's heels and smoothing upwards with a firm touch, a single sweeping motion from heel to toe. He dug his thumbs in, then along Remus's arch, and was rewarded with a guttural groan from Remus as he wriggled his toes.

"Oh, _lovely_ , Ted," Remus moaned. Teddy looked up. Remus had his eyes closed and was clutching the quilt with one hand as the other teased over his erection, barely touching it. Remus thrust his hips into the air once, twice, with subtle motions as if he were trying to hold himself back and almost succeeding.

Teddy's own cock, half-hard despite his recent orgasm, sprang back to life at the sight of his father on the verge of coming undone. There was a thrill in knowing that _he_ was making Remus feel this way, that despite his father's original reluctance he was experiencing some of the same desire that Teddy had. The gratification was more powerful than when he'd messed around with other boys, or even when he'd finally figured out how to touch Victoire until she came.

He kept rubbing Remus's right foot for a few minutes, sitting with his own leg drawn up to press it against his aching prick, fascinated by the way that his father was not-quite wanking, as if he couldn't decide whether to let himself come in front of Teddy or not. The flush on his cheeks had spread down to his chest.

With a last caress, Teddy put down that foot and switched to the left, pressing firmly against the arch again which seemed to be the spot where Remus was most sensitive. He'd never imagined that anyone could be so excited by having his feet touched--they were just _feet_ , after all. He supposed this was what that his father was trying to teach him in this lesson, that a person could enjoy all kinds of different touches. Feet might be inconvenient, but Teddy could imagine maybe sometime having a lover who would touch his neck and ears in public, where no one else would guess at how much it turned Teddy on.

Remus was biting his lip, now. "That's... oh, that's _good_." Then, as Teddy dug his thumb into the yielding flesh once more, he cried out. "Ahh!"

Teddy watched, his mouth dry, as his father's cock spurted pearly strands of semen across his belly. Remus's hand hovered, trembling, failing to hide the evidence of his pleasure. It was one of the most arousing things Teddy had ever seen, and he heard himself give a little whimper without meaning to.

"Dad?"

A peculiar expression flashed across Remus's face--too quickly for Teddy to be sure what it was--and he opened his eyes, sitting up and reaching out to gather Teddy close. Teddy whimpered again, _needing_. He curled into his father's embrace, inhaling the sweet, strong scent of his father's come, and he pressed his hand to his father's stomach, needing to feel the liquid between his fingers, as if to convince himself that what had just happened had really _happened_.

His father's come felt just like Teddy's own did, of course, but the fact that it _wasn't_ his--and that his partner wasn't turning away, stuffing his prick back into his pants, but _embracing_ him, letting him touch him--made Teddy whimper again. He rested his cheek against his father's chest, which was still flushed and sweaty, and he smeared his father's semen down the length of his own mostly-erect cock, craving even more closeness, as his father stroked his hair, from his fringe down to the softly curling wisps at the back of his neck.

"Oh, Teddy," Remus murmured, "Oh, my boy."

"Dad," Teddy said, turning so that his lips were right against his father's chest. It wasn't quite a kiss as he said _Dad_ again, putting his arms around his father and stroking his back.

"Dad, that was brilliant," he finally managed, still speaking against his father's flushed skin.

Remus chuckled a little as he pulled Teddy down with him to lie against the pillows. "And that was only the first lesson," he said, sweeping a stray lock of hair from Teddy's forehead. "Do you still think touching isn't proper sex?"

"It's just--touching was never like _that_ before," Teddy replied. He reached down to scratch his stomach, then his hand automatically continued downward, to where his prick was hard and bobbing, coated with his father's sticky come.

"Perhaps I'd better clean up and leave you to deal with that," Remus said, smiling. He placed a hand on Teddy's side, then stroked down along the jut of his hipbone.

"Dad?"

"I think--yes, I think perhaps we've both learned enough for one day."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus is a bit concerned about his fantasies, but the lesson on "hands" goes ahead as planned.

Teddy had wanted to meet for their next lesson the very next weekend, but Remus reminded him that Saturday was the full moon, and Remus would be in no shape to do much even on Sunday.

Actually, he rather expected Sam to drop by Sunday afternoon--he'd been in Spain for a few days at some sort of conference to do with one of his charities, the one that helped witches and wizards who'd become addicted to certain illegal potions, Remus thought. He wasn't _certain_ Sam would come by, but he didn't want to plan a lesson with Teddy and have it unexpectedly interrupted.

In the meantime, he'd sent Teddy home to his own flat with the two books he'd chosen, and instructions to look through them carefully and note anything he wanted to try the next time. Before then, though, Teddy was to practise on himself to the extent possible.

"It doesn't feel the same when I do it to myself," Teddy had said in half-hearted protest.

"Practise anyway." Remus had cocked his head. "I know Victoire's not available, since she's at school, but if you've someone else...?"

Teddy had flushed and muttered something inaudible, then said louder, "I told you before, it's hard to meet people. That's why I asked _you_. So I'll just practise alone. The weekend after next, though, can we have another lesson?"

Remus had nodded. "I think that will do. I'll let you know sometime before then, but probably on the Saturday."

He had definitely made the right decision, not to give Teddy a lesson today. As usual these days, he'd dozed off while in wolf form, and been awakened at dawn by the pain of the transformation. Even now, in the late afternoon, he still felt stiff and sore, and sat nursing a cup of tea on the sofa, half-heartedly trying to read an article in the _Quibbler_.

A thump in the fireplace alerted him, and he looked up to see Sam's head grinning there.

"Hullo, Remus."

"You look awfully tan and rested," Remus said, a trifle enviously.

"You look plain awful," Sam replied. "Mind if I come through?"

"Of course not," Remus said, "I was hoping you'd come by today." He began to struggle to his feet.

"Don't move," Sam said then. "I'm serious; don't get up. I'll be there before you can blink." His head disappeared, and a moment later his whole body landed in the fireplace and he stepped out, brushing soot from his sleeves and hair. Remus had settled back against the sofa cushions, secretly glad of Sam's insistence that he stay there.

"It looks like this was a bad change," Sam said softly, sitting down beside Remus and stroking his hair.

Remus reached for his teacup again and attempted a smile. "Well," he said thoughtfully, taking a sip, "they're never good."

Sam nodded, hesitating. Remus knew it was hard for Sam, not quite ever knowing what to say, seeing Remus in such a weakened state. It had always been hard for Sirius, too, and he'd covered up his nervousness with jokes and constant, agitated movement. Teddy--Teddy was always so gentle. Even as a child he'd crawl into Remus's bed and just lie there beside him, holding his hand or resting his little head on Remus's pillow, smiling around the thumb he always had stuck in his mouth.

Sam, however, dealt with it best by feeding Remus.

"Are you hungry?" asked Sam. "I could demonstrate my culinary expertise, if you like--or pop 'round to that Italian place down the road and bring back massive amounts of food. What's it called--Giuseppe's?"

"Giovanni's," Remus corrected. "I'm all right, though. Had some cold chicken for lunch, and there's more in the kitchen for dinner, plus some things for a salad and some bread, too, I think." He drained the last of his tea. "No--I fed the last of the bread to the birds yesterday afternoon. It was getting a bit stale anyhow."

"Giovanni's it is, then," Sam declared, "and no protests. _I'm_ hungry, anyway, and for more than cold chicken and salad." He picked up Remus's teacup and headed into the kitchen, and Remus smiled to himself and closed his eyes and listened to Sam bustling around in there, making another cup of tea before he left. It had taken Remus some time to acclimate to having someone take care of him after his full moons--he'd been taking care of himself for so many years. Tonks had done it, of course, when she was there, but as an Auror she'd been liable to be called away at a moment's notice. Even during the first few months they'd seen each other, Sam had made a point of trying to be around for the day or two after Remus's transformations. It was a nice feeling.

"Anything special you'd like?" Sam brought in the fresh cup of tea and set it down at Remus's elbow.

"Not really." Remus thought for a minute. At other times of the month he liked Giovanni's eggplant parmigiana, but the week around the full moon he tended to crave red meat. "Something with Bolognese sauce, maybe, or sausage. Whatever you want. And garlic bread."

"Of course, garlic bread. If we both eat it, we won't notice each other's garlic breath." Dropping a quick kiss on Remus's cheek, Sam headed for the door. "Back in a few minutes."

Remus let himself drift off, the warmth of the tea and of Sam's caring both relaxing him. He thought vaguely that he really ought to give Sam a key to the house. Not as a hint that they should live together, just for convenience.

"I picked up a bottle of Chianti, too," Sam announced when he returned. "Come on, let's eat." He disappeared into the kitchen to put down the carrier bags, then came back as Remus was standing up with a wince. "How about a nice hot shower together afterward? That ought to make you feel better."

"That sounds good." Remus smiled at him. "I'm glad the full moon was on a weekend this month. I have to admit it seems to get worse over the years; I have to take a day or two off work, most months."

Sam nodded as they sat down, and started spooning portions of pasta onto each of their plates, passing Remus the garlic bread. "At least it's predictable, I suppose."

He talked about his conference for a little while as they ate, and Remus made appropriate noises of interest, though he was more focused on the food, being hungrier than he'd thought.

"How's your son?" Sam asked eventually. "Has he adjusted to his discovery of us by now?"

"Somewhat," Remus replied, taking another piece of garlic bread. "He has no problem with the fact that you're also male. That's not an issue at all. I think the discovery that I was with _anyone_ was the shock. I've dated a little since his mum died--well, _you_ know that--but I've always been discreet." He smiled. "But I suppose you know _that_ , too."

Sam nodded and smiled as he twirled the last of his fettuccine on his fork. "I do." He put the pasta in his mouth, then scraped the last of the Bolognese sauce from his bowl.

"I must say, it surprises me that he's so open minded," he said then. Remus looked up, blinking, his mouth full of pasta.

"Mmm--" he said, and he held up a hand as he chewed and swallowed. "Well," he said, dabbing at his mouth with his napkin, "that's the thing." He sighed and stretched a hand across the table, which Sam took, rubbing his thumb over Remus's knuckles.

"Something wrong?"

Remus sighed. "I probably shouldn't be telling you this," he said, "but--well. I know you'll keep it between us." He took a breath and gave Sam's hand a little squeeze. "Teddy came to me the other day with some questions. It seems he's somewhat confused about his sexuality, and after seeing us doing, ah, what we were doing the other night, he thought he could talk to me about it."

Sam raised his eyebrows and sat back in his chair. "And did you?"

"Of course," Remus replied, "What sort of a gay father would I be if I hadn't?" Sam laughed at this, and Remus's mouth twisted into a weary smile.

"Is your boy carrying on the Lupin tradition, then?" Sam asked, and Remus chuckled.

"Seems that way. He, ah, hasn't had a lot of experience, and I think he enjoyed being with his girlfriend Victoire, but it seems they're no longer an item and Ted is apparently leaning more towards the male end of the spectrum of available mates, right now at any rate."

"He's not doing anything foolish, is he?" Sam wrinkled his forehead in concern. "I mean, I know he's of age, but there's a lot that could cause him real trouble. I know that from experience."

"You do?" Then Remus remembered some of the circumstances of the Hobgoblins' breakup, the scandals, and the one death. "Of course you do. Sorry, I wasn't thinking. No, Ted seems to have acted sensibly so far"--if persuading his father to introduce him to some of the delights of gay sex could in any way be called _sensible_ \--"so it was more the awkwardness factor." Awkward being a polite understatement. "But I don't think he's ready to be public about perhaps not being quite as 'normal' as he is used to seeming. It's always been hard enough on him as a werewolf's son, and a Metamorphmagus to boot; although that's probably been more a plus than anything, it's still uncommon."

"Well, good." A grin stretched Sam's mouth. "You know, if it's too awkward for you as his father to want to talk to him, you could send him to me. If that's not also too weird for him, since he knows about our relationship."

"I'll keep that in mind," Remus promised. He swallowed the last of the wine in his glass, and sighed. "Thanks for bringing dinner, Sam. It was very thoughtful of you, especially since you've only just got back to England yourself."

"No trouble." Sam waved it away. "Let me put the rest of the food in the fridge and you go up and start running the shower, all right?"

"All right," said Remus, standing up and feeling his joints creak. A hot shower sounded very good indeed, especially with Sam there.

He was relaxing under the spray when Sam came into the bathroom and stripped down.

"Ready?" he asked, pulling the curtain aside to step in. "Thought I'd wash you off."

Remus nodded and handed him the soap. He wondered a little at Sam's solicitousness tonight; surely Remus didn't look so ravaged by his transformation as to seem to require it?

"I missed you," Sam murmured, dropping a gentle kiss on Remus's neck as he began to rub the soap over Remus's chest. Ah, so that was it. Of course, it wasn't as though they hadn't been separated for as long, even much longer on previous occasions. But no matter. Remus was glad to have been missed, and he smiled and moved a little closer to Sam.

"I missed you, too," he replied. He let Sam wash his chest, then leaned against him, skin to skin, as Sam moved the soap over his back.

"I was thinking, earlier," he said then, and he paused as Sam began to massage his tired back muscles through the soapsuds.

"You were thinking?" Sam prompted.

"Mmm. Keep doing that." Remus closed his eyes and leaned even more heavily on Sam.

"I was thinking," he repeated a few minutes later, when Sam had washed him all over and had poured out shampoo and had begun to wash his hair, scrubbing hard with his fingernails just the way Remus liked, "That maybe I'd get a key made for you. To the house."

There was a pause, and Sam's fingers slowed in Remus's hair. "Oh?" Sam said, his voice cautious.

"Not--not meaning anything. Er. Nothing you don't want it to mean, anyway. I just thought for convenience's sake that you might like to have one. You wouldn't have to come through the Floo, then, or wait for me to open up when you come over."

Sam turned Remus around and nodded. "Rinse," he said, and he pushed Remus back gently, so that the shower spray washed over him. Remus slicked the shampoo from his hair, his eyes closed, hoping he hadn't somehow managed to offend Sam, or seem too forward.

When he ducked out from under the spray, Sam was smiling. "Are you going to tell Teddy I've got a key?" he asked, and Remus cocked his head. Bloody hell. He hadn't even _thought_ about Teddy and their lessons when he'd made that suggestion.

"Of course. He has one himself, naturally, and if you happened to stop by when I wasn't here, and so did he, I wouldn't want him to be too shocked, you know." Remus's mind raced. He'd certainly have to tell Teddy. And perhaps they'd have to schedule lessons for times when Remus knew that Sam was going to be away, to be on the safe side. Sam had done some questionable things in his day, but that didn't mean he'd understand the agreement Remus had made with his son.

"Good." Sam put his hands on Remus's shoulders and slid them down to his wrists. "Then I'd be honoured." He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Remus's lips. "Not that I plan to barge in on you all the time; I'd rather know you were here before coming over."

Remus relaxed a little at that, although he still was determined not to have Teddy over--not for their lessons--unless he was quite sure Sam wouldn't turn up unexpectedly. "It's nice having you around," he said into Sam's ear. "Been a long time since there was anyone I wanted to see this much."

"Flatterer." The rumble of Sam's laugh always seemed surprisingly low to Remus. "Not that I mind."

He reached around Remus and turned off the tap. "Can't stay tonight, I have a student coming for a voice lesson early tomorrow, but there's time...? If you're not too sore?" He made an exaggeratedly hopeful face, and Remus laughed back.

"As long as we don't try for anything too acrobatic, I should be fine."

"Excellent." Sam grabbed a couple of towels, quickly rubbing himself dry, and then doing the same for Remus. They held hands walking down the hallway to Remus's bedroom.

"Just want to touch you tonight," Sam said between kisses, stroking Remus's cock, which responded more slowly now that the moon was waning, but that was all right. Neither of them was young any more.

Remus thought about the lesson he'd taught Teddy, and instead of reaching for Sam's prick, he began instead by touching Sam's torso, not his nipples but the hollows above his collarbones, and then the still-damp tufts of hair on his chest and below his arms.

"Ohhh," Sam moaned as Remus's hands travelled over his body. He stretched himself over the bed, arching up under Remus's touch, and Remus propped himself up on one elbow, smiling. It had been a while since they had done this, taken the time to explore each other's bodies. They had grown too used to each other, taking shortcuts and indulging in instant gratification more and more often lately.

Remus bent a little to lick a path across Sam's left nipple and a little way down the centre of his chest before he found he couldn't bend any further. He laughed and straightened up again, having learned long ago that he simply had to laugh at himself when he was weakened after the full moon, because the alternative--feeling sorry for himself and being generally miserable--got him exactly nowhere.

"Why don't you just let me keep taking care of you?" Sam proposed, and Remus assented. Though he felt mostly human again after dinner and a shower, he was more than willing to let Sam indulge him for the rest of their evening together.

He settled against the pillows, and Sam bent over him, kissing him lightly on his mouth and then travelling down Remus's neck, leaving a trail of suckling kisses in his wake. Sam's hands, meanwhile, smoothed over Remus's arms and then his chest, half massaging, half enticing.

When Sam reached Remus's erection, Remus grasped his hand. "Wait," he murmured, raising his head to kiss Sam's mouth, "Just wait. Not there--not yet."

If Sam thought anything was strange, he could certainly put it down to Remus's recent transformation, but if he did, he didn't show it. He skimmed his fingertips over the crease between Remus's thigh and groin, then moved down to kiss the overheated skin where his fingers had just been. He darted out his tongue, and Remus shivered and opened his legs a little wider to let Sam taste him.

Sam's mouth travelled up, then, to lick the tender skin of Remus's balls, sucking gently along the seam, then lower, lower, and he began to press Remus's legs up and apart.

Remus winced and put a hand in Sam's hair. "Let's not try that tonight," he murmured, "I don't think these old bones can take it."

Sam responded by kissing his way back up Remus's thigh and taking his erection in hand. "This is all right now?" he asked.

"Yes... but don't rush it." Remus caught Sam's eye and gave a wry smile. "The trade off for how I am the week before the full moon, you know."

"I know." Sam kept his caresses firm and slow. His fingers dragged against the dry skin of Remus's cock, and rather soon he said, "Lube?"

"In the drawer."

Sam rolled over and found it, slicking his hand and his prick, and then Remus's, recapping the tube and tossing it aside. "Come here, turn." He tugged Remus to face him, positioning them hip-to-hip, snaking his lubricated hand between their bellies to grasp both their cocks at once.

"That's lovely," Remus murmured, his eyes falling shut as he kissed Sam. The press and pulse of Sam's erection against his own felt marvellous, in fact, especially with the slippery glide of Sam's hand stroking them together. "You're lovely."

"I do my best." Sam sounded smug. His tongue coaxed Remus's mouth open again in a kiss that was a little more demanding this time.

"Which is very good indeed," said Remus when he had a chance again.

"You're not so bad yourself," Sam replied. "As you well know." He nuzzled at Remus's cheek, licking a stripe down to his neck and sucking at the hollow of it, his hand still moving on their cocks, slightly faster now.

Remus ran his fingers through Sam's hair, feeling the coarser white hairs scattered among the dark. The heat was building up in him, slowly but inexorably, as they caressed each other. It felt _right_ as well as good, this considerate lovemaking, and Remus was glad that he'd made the gesture of offering Sam a key; he'd never done that for any previous lover.

When Sam gave a groan deep in his throat, Remus whispered fiercely, "Yes, come on," and his hand joined Sam's, jostling his bollocks and rubbing at the base of his prick until Sam tipped his head back with a grunt, the semen spurting between them making Remus's cock even more slippery. Remus was close, too, and he thrust into Sam's hand, desperate now to reach orgasm.

He threw his head back and pressed closer to Sam, and Sam kissed his exposed throat and nipped lightly at the tender skin there, and that was enough to send Remus over the edge, even as he cried out from the pain inherent in the pleasure of Sam's teeth in such a sensitive spot. Remus shuddered his way through his orgasm, clutching at Sam yet lost in a world of his own for a few brief, blissful moments.

"I think I'm officially exhausted now," he said a few moments later, as Sam was cleaning the spunk from both their bellies with his wand.

"In a good way, though, yes?" Sam asked, and Remus nodded, stretching and yawning and pushing the hair from his face.

Sam was up and dressing a moment later, and Remus watched his through half-lidded eyes as he donned his pants and vest and trousers, then reached for his shirt and began buttoning it up. "Going to sleep?" he asked Remus. Remus glanced at the clock and shook his head.

"Not for a little while yet," he replied, sitting up and rolling his shoulders. "Toss me my dressing gown, won't you?"

Sam did, and Remus shrugged it on, not wanting to bother with any more clothing at the moment. Sam finished lacing his boots and took Remus in his arms, nuzzling at his neck.

"You smell good," he announced, "Like soap and me." Remus laughed and privately thought he mightn't mind smelling like Sam more often, even if neither of them could be called young any longer, and even if sex was sometimes an effort, and even if sometimes all he wanted was just to be in the same room together, their feet tangled together on the sofa as they each read from their own newspaper, cups of tea growing cold by their sides. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he embraced Sam.

"I'll get that key made for you tomorrow," he promised.

Sam stepped back and studied his boots, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. "All right," he said, and Remus didn't press the issue. When Sam looked up, he was smiling, and as they made their way to the living room and the fireplace, he said, "I do appreciate the offer of a key, you know. I just--you said it's been a long time since there was someone you wanted to see this much and, well, it's been a long time since anyone wanted to see _me_ this much. I'm still getting used to you, even after this much time. But believe me, Remus, that's a good thing."

"For me, too." Remus touched Sam's cheek. "See you later this week?"

"Maybe Tuesday--I have to go off to America on Wednesday, won't be back till Monday next." Sam pulled a face. "The wizards in Boston are fine, but they can't make a decent cuppa to save their lives. After that, though, I think I'll be home for a while."

"Good," said Remus, and watched as Sam disappeared into the Floo.

He puttered around for a while, realising that Sam hadn't taken any of the leftovers with him--though if he was going out of the country, that made sense. And luckily it meant that Remus could keep his promise to Teddy and have their second lesson the next weekend; in fact, perhaps Remus should send him a note to confirm that Saturday would be the day and that Teddy could stay the night if he wished.

Between the exhaustion of the full moon and the much pleasanter tiredness of his time with Sam, Remus was in bed and asleep before nine. He woke to the alarm at half-past six, the last moments of a dream fading from his mind even as he tried to recall them, only managing to remember that it had had something to do with satsumas. He rolled his eyes at himself and got up to face the day, not forgetting to have a spare key made over his lunch hour.

Teddy's reply to his note was enthusiastic, and asked if there was anything special he should do before or bring to their next lesson, other than the practise that Remus had already assigned. Remus sent a response in the negative, simply suggesting that Teddy come over about noon and they could have lunch somewhere first.

He went over to Sam's flat on Tuesday; it had been a while since he'd been there, and they spent an enjoyable evening playing wizard chess, with a lengthy pause between the two games to indulge in more carnal pleasures. Remus gave the new key to Sam, who put it on his key ring promptly, "So I don't lose it," he said, chuckling. "I'm notorious for losing important bits and bobs, I should warn you."

"As long as the bits and bobs you lose don't include people, that's all right," Remus chaffed him back.

"Not you, at any rate." Sam turned serious. "No intention of doing that. I'll be back very late next Monday, and expect I'll want to spend most of Tuesday sleeping, but d'you want to have dinner Wednesday?"

"Sounds good," said Remus, brushing a good-bye kiss over his lips. "Have a good trip and I'll see you then."

Sam smiled and lifted a hand in farewell as Remus stepped into the Floo.

The week passed without incident, and soon enough it was Friday evening. Remus had set a stew on the stove, simmering low and with a charm to insure it wouldn't scorch, before he'd left for work that morning, and he sat at his desk in his study with a steaming bowl of it and skimmed the headlines in the _Prophet_.

Finding nothing that much interested him, and wanting to save the crossword for later, Remus sat back and opened the top right-hand drawer of his desk, extracting the parchment on which he'd planned Teddy's series of lessons, the parchment he'd enchanted to look like a shopping list, should anyone happen across it.

He tapped it with his wand, and the words rearranged into the ones he'd written nearly two weeks ago--had it really been that long? He studied the second lesson he'd planned, though he had it memorised by now. _Hands_. It wasn't a huge extension of the first lesson, but Remus thought it was better to start out too slowly than too quickly anyway. They would build on what Teddy had learned, applying light, then heavier touches to each other's bodies.

 _Hands_. He closed his eyes, seeing Teddy's slim hands dancing over his scarred skin in the dimly-lit room, seeing his own rougher hands moving with sure strokes, beginning behind Teddy's ear--Teddy had loved that--and travelling lower, lower, until they moved over his son's cock, smearing clear fluid down it, Teddy gasping as he tried hard not to come too quickly.

Remus smiled to himself, remembering the look on Teddy's face as he came, shock mixed with pleasure, and how Remus had gathered his son close after that, comforting, consoling, caressing. Perhaps they could move a bit more slowly this time. Then again, Teddy _had_ been practising all week--Remus vaguely wondered if he'd found anyone to practise with--and perhaps he would be better prepared tomorrow when they laid hands on each other again. Perhaps he would be more in control.

Remus felt his cheeks flush at the remembrance of the way he himself had lost control, and he mentally chided himself. He hadn't meant to come at all during their lesson, and he hadn't counted on getting quite so aroused. Naturally he knew that he'd have to come in front of Teddy eventually, as their lessons progressed into "proper" sex, but he hadn't exactly planned on it happening the first time they touched each other in a way that was more than familial.

Too late to be concerned about that now, he supposed. Teddy hadn't seemed to be bothered by it--which he might have been even though the entire situation was his idea to begin with--so there was no point in Remus second-guessing himself.

He thought about all the things that one could do with hands. Sirius had had lovely hands, narrow and aristocratic fingers, although he bit his nails down to the quick. Which had had its benefits... but Remus did not plan to introduce Teddy to those more extreme practices. He wasn't even planning to slip a finger inside Teddy's arsehole this lesson. Possibly as a part of the one on rimming, or else the lesson on toys. Remus reminded himself that Teddy might not enjoy everything that Remus taught him, either. There had been that one bloke a few years ago, William, who disliked penetration, either doing it or having it done to him, and Remus himself didn't care for pain. He had quite enough of that as it was, and in a sexual context it turned him very much off.

 _Hands_ , he repeated to himself. Teddy would know well enough what he could do to his own cock; the trick would be more to have him realise that what _he_ enjoyed in terms of speed and friction wasn't necessarily everyone else's preference. Adolescent boys weren't usually good at communicating those nuances, after all, and doubtless that was part of the reason why Teddy had apparently found his encounters with his peers less than fully satisfying. Remus would teach him by example, talking him through it. Perhaps he should have Teddy say whether he thought Remus was enjoying something from Teddy's observations of his reactions, and then confirm or contradict Teddy's deductions.

And he would do likewise. He imagined touching Teddy's bollocks, fondling them through the loose skin. He doubted that Teddy's former partners had done much with them. Remus could almost feel their tender heat already. He swallowed, aroused, and pushed aside his half-eaten stew to unzip his trousers.

His cock throbbed steadily in his palm as he gave it long but light strokes. There was much to be said for self-pleasuring, really, even when one had a loved and loving partner. Another thing he should talk with Teddy about, that as long as it didn't prevent him from making love with his partner, there was no reason not to wank as well if he wished. It had taken Remus a while to learn that particular lesson, and there'd been a certain amount of unhappiness before he did so.

Shifting in his chair, Remus used his free hand to unbutton his cardigan and the shirt beneath, stroking his chest and nipples, remembering how Teddy had touched him a fortnight ago. Tonight he was ready for the rougher scrape of a fingernail, though he'd been too sensitive for it then. He gave a long sigh as he teased his nipples, pinching and scraping, half-consciously thinking how Teddy would be surprised at the change in his father after the moon.

He continued teasing his nipples with his left hand while his right worked at his cock, squeezing lightly, manoeuvring the foreskin over the head and back again, catching the drop of precome that welled up in his slit and smearing it over the head. He grunted a little, shifting positions, working his cock and balls the rest of the way free from his trousers. He left off teasing his nipples and let his left hand go to work on his balls, his fingers smoothing over the tightening skin.

A glimpse of Teddy's own balls flashed in his mind, tight and fuzzy beneath his cock and his sedate brown patch of pubic curls. Remus blew out a long breath. At some point he was going to have to either stop letting his son into his fantasies, or else accept him as an established part of them, but he wasn't ready to make that decision just yet.

And Teddy's balls were lovely, _oh_ , they were lovely. Remus longed to stroke them, and--soon enough--to kiss them, to inhale that particularly _boy_ scent of soap and hope and hormones. He began to pant a little as he squeezed his cock even harder, pulling himself off to an image of his son spreading his legs, inviting Remus in for a taste.

He came almost without realising it was going to happen, pearly fluid suddenly spilling over from his cock onto his hand, seeping between his fingers, dripping onto his trousers and his soft leather office chair. "Ohh--" he gasped belatedly, curling forward, gritting his teeth as he coaxed the last of his orgasm out, the final droplets of come oozing downwards.

Remus let go of his cock, wiping his wet hand on his stained trousers, and closed his eyes, the same image of Teddy still fresh in his mind.

Oh, this was _not_ okay. What had seemed a difficult decision in the heat of self-induced passion was a simple one now that Remus's head had cleared. He could give Teddy lessons--structured, pre-planned lessons--at scheduled times and within the privacy of the spare bedroom, but he could _not_ allow those lessons to spill over into other parts of his life. What if, god forbid, he moaned Teddy's name some night when he was with Sam? It was a cliche, of course, and Remus didn't tend to moan out _anyone's_ name during sex, but still--what if he _did_?

He snatched up his wand from the desk and cleaned himself off with a spell, jerking his trousers shut and fastening them quickly, a pained scowl appearing on his face. The whole thing had been a poor decision and he should tell Teddy that he had changed his mind, call off tomorrow's lesson... except that he could see the hurt and disappointment on Teddy's face if his father broke his word. _Damn._ He'd done plenty of stupid things in his life, what was one more?

Shaking his head, he carried the half-full stew bowl out to the kitchen. He couldn't eat any more just now. A drink would be a bad idea, too. Remus poured himself a glass of orange juice instead and took his lesson plan and the crossword to the living room; his study smelled of sex.

He did the crossword first, needing something to distract his mind, let his subconscious worry at the different possibilities. It was a good tricky one, keeping him occupied for an hour, until he finally filled in the last letters and put the paper aside with a sigh to pick up once again the parchment scrawled with his plans for debauching his son.

The real question, Remus decided, was whether he really _could_ give Teddy lessons and have them be only that. Regardless of what Teddy wanted and hoped for, what could Remus handle, realistically? He'd had fantasies about inappropriate people before-- _Harry, far too young_ \--but there had been no question of fulfilling those. Teddy was _eager_ for this, and that would make it far more difficult for Remus to restrain himself. All the conditions he'd set: were they to protect Teddy, or himself?

Remus stretched his legs out and twisted his back until it popped. He wished there were someone he could talk to about this, but that was impossible. What would Sirius have done? Tossed caution to the winds, Remus was sure. James, too. But they were both dead; Remus, usually more cautious, was the one who had survived.

All right. Think about it logically. He'd agreed to Teddy's proposal because he _was_ concerned that Teddy should learn what he needed to learn in a safe and loving way, and that hadn't changed. Regardless of law and social outrage, for Remus to teach his son was not in itself something that would hurt either of them. He was not forcing himself on Teddy--quite the opposite. And while he loved Teddy, it was _not_ the same kind of love he felt for Sam. Remus felt a moment's wonder at the realisation that he cared about Sam more than anyone since Tonks or Sirius. He loved Teddy as his son, and if Teddy _hadn't_ been his son he'd have been drawn to him physically, he admitted that, but that still wasn't the same. Remus sighed. For now, at least, he'd keep on with the lessons.

He read over the notes he'd made for the next day, re-charmed the parchment to its innocuous appearance as a shopping list, and went to bed.

The morning came all too soon, bringing with it the insistent nearness of Remus's appointment with his son.

Remus stood in the doorway of the spare bedroom, wearing the dressing gown Teddy had given him, and he sighed. No--it was all right. It was going to be fine. He shook his head as if to clear it of any lingering doubts about what he was doing, knowing full well that those doubts would continue to fester in the back of his mind, appearing again to taunt him when he least expected them.

He gazed around the room--it was fully in order, the bed made with fresh sheets. He'd seen to that immediately after their first lesson, ridding the room of any evidence of their transgressions. No one could ever have guessed what had gone on--and what was yet to happen--from the plump and tidy bed there in the spare room.

Eleven o'clock found Remus dressed and ready, though Teddy wasn't scheduled to show for an hour yet and had inherited his mother's habit of persistent lateness. Perhaps Teddy would show up early, though, Remus had convinced himself, since he was so eager and had been forced to wait two weeks for his next lesson.

Teddy burst into the house at five past twelve, grinning broadly, his hair a darker blue than the jeans he wore, appearing nearly black against his fair skin.

"Lunch!" he declared by way of greeting, "I'm starving! Let's go!" He grasped Remus's shoulder and steered him out the door, grinning all the while, nearly bouncing.

"You're certainly cheerful today," Remus said a little while later, when they had finished their sandwiches and Teddy was devouring a slice of chocolate gateau that the waitress had, without difficulty, talked him into.

"Well," Teddy said, grinning, "I _have_ been looking forward to this day for two weeks now."

Remus felt himself breathe a little more easily, the doubts that had taken over his mind all but disappearing. Yes, Teddy really wanted this. He wasn't forcing himself on the boy. He had to relax, had to accept what was happening--surely the fantasies which had plagued him would wear off as their lessons progressed. He hoped.

He managed a smile back at Teddy. "Been practising?"

Teddy flushed. "Yeah. Alone, though."

"That's all right." Remus supposed it was that they were discussing the matter in public, even elliptically, that was embarrassing Teddy. "If you don't mind, I need to run a quick errand at the bookshop before we go home."

"Okay," Teddy agreed, although he looked a little disgruntled at the delay.

In Diagon Alley, Teddy said, "Is there time for me to go to the record shop? I quite liked that _Nom de Guerre_ album and I thought maybe I'd buy it for myself."

"Of course," said Remus. "I bet Sam would even autograph it for you, if you wanted."

"Wicked. Meet you at the bookshop in twenty minutes?"

"That's fine." Remus watched Teddy dart away through the Saturday crowd of shoppers. He hurried to Flourish & Blotts; all he really needed to do was to check and make sure that a delayed delivery had indeed come in that morning. Zamira Gulch was supposed to come Tuesday for a book-signing to promote her recent _Practical Garden Magic_ , and if the book wasn't available, the event would have to be rescheduled.

Thankfully Obscurus Books had finally sent over the eight dozen copies that had been ordered. Remus would set up the display on Monday, and all would be well. He was just coming out of the storeroom when he saw Teddy coming into the shop, swinging a carrier bag. Evidently he'd succeeded in his quest to locate the Hobgoblins' album.

"Ready?" Remus asked as he came up to Teddy, who nodded enthusiastically. "Let's go home then."

He'd decided to begin this time by asking Teddy if he had any questions so far, either about what he'd learnt two weeks ago or about today's lesson topic.

Teddy shook his head. "Not about what we learned last time. I practised, like I said, um, when I wanked. Touched myself all over first." He trailed a hand down his neck, his gaze drifting a little. "I get it, now. It doesn't feel as good as when you--as when someone else does it, but it makes the whole thing a little more of an experience."

Remus nodded. "That it does," he said, reflecting on his own wanking session the night before. "I'm glad you practised, Ted. It gives me reassurance that you're taking these lessons seriously." _And that I'm not just being an old pervert, fulfilling my own bizarre fantasies._ "And about today's lesson? Any questions?"

"Um," Teddy said, and he paused, screwing up his mouth as if he were deciding whether or not to actually ask a question.

"Whatever you'd like to ask is fine with me," Remus said, prompting. "That's what I'm here for. That's why we're doing this." He spread his hands in front of him, and Teddy nodded.

"Okay. Just--I don't mean to sound impatient, Dad, but how exactly is this lesson different from the last? I mean-- _hands_. That's exactly what we did last time. _Touching_."

"We're building on our first lesson, Ted. Just like when you were in school. The first day, you learned _Wingardium Leviosa_ , and the next day, you didn't progress immediately to Summoning and Banishing Charms."

"No," Teddy replied, "we didn't learn those until fourth year."

"And so," Remus said, "we don't go straight to penetration so soon after learning to touch. I believe you'll find as many useful and new things in this lesson as you did in the last one--and, if I'm not mistaken, quite a bit of the last lesson was new to you. We'll also be learning to touch body parts that we left alone last time."

Teddy smiled and nodded. "Can we go upstairs, now, then?"

When Remus replied in the affirmative, Teddy practically jumped to his feet. Remus nearly laughed at his eagerness as Teddy grabbed Remus's hand and tugged him along.

"Take pity on my old bones," he cautioned.

"You're not _old_." Teddy's voice was indignant.

"Old enough," said Remus. As he had last time, he closed the door behind them and turned the lamps on low. "Wait a moment," he told Teddy, who was already starting to take off his clothes.

Teddy opened his mouth as if to protest, then shut it, clearly remembering that he'd agreed to do whatever Remus directed him to do in these lessons.

"I thought that it might be useful for you to think about the art of undressing. Both undressing oneself, and undressing one's partner, can be part of the whole experience. I know we did it a bit last time, but it's worth repeating."

"Oh." Teddy's eyes shone. "I see."

"So why don't you undress me first, and then yourself."

Remus stood in front of the bed as Teddy began by carefully unbuttoning Remus's cardigan, laying it over the back of the chair, and then starting in on his shirt.

"You can touch as you do this," Remus reminded him, and Teddy nodded. He finished with the buttons and then smoothed his hands along Remus's chest, underneath the hanging fabric. Remus closed his eyes for a moment as Teddy tugged at the hair under his arms and on his chest.

"That's not too hard, is it?" asked Teddy anxiously.

"No, it feels lovely, Ted." Remus opened his eyes and gave his son a reassuring smile. "That's something else that you'll learn when you're with one person for a while, how to read their expressions and sounds for what's pleasurable to them. In fact, we'll practise that a bit today."

"Sounds?" Teddy asked. His voice trembled almost imperceptibly as he ran his hands down Remus's chest once more, skimming over the waist of Remus's trousers.

Remus smiled and nodded. "Exactly." He brushed the back of his hand along Teddy's jawline, lifting his face so he could look into his eyes, which today were a stormy grey. "For example, the way your voice wavered just now tells me a couple of things. One, that you might be a little nervous--" Teddy made a face, but Remus wasn't sorry that he hadn't softened the blow; after all, honesty was important here. "And, two, that you're rather enjoying having your hands where they are right now."

Teddy's fingers had crept just underneath the waist of Remus's trousers, and his mouth stretched into a reluctant smile.

"Well, yeah," Teddy admitted, undoing the button and zip, "I mean, I've got to say, I'm looking forward to what's under there." A blush rose in his cheeks, and Remus drew his son close, laughing.

"You're wonderful, Ted," he said, sentimentality suddenly washing over him. Teddy laughed, too, and kept fumbling with Remus's trousers.

"Well, it's true!" he declared. "Didn't get to touch it last time, did I? And I want to, Dad, I really do." He slipped Remus's trousers from his hips, and Remus stepped out of them, now clad only in socks and pants. Teddy ran a finger under the elastic of Remus's cotton pants, his pink tongue darting out to wet his lips.

"Think I'll leave these for last, actually," he said. He stepped on Remus's toes, then. "Pull," he said, grinning, and Remus did, leaning on Teddy's shoulders so as not to overbalance as he rid himself of his socks.

"And now pants," Teddy declared. He knelt in front of his father, and Remus shivered a little as his fully-dressed son eased his pants down his hips, letting his half-erect cock spring free. Teddy stroked Remus's hips and thighs, leaving his cock alone as if it were a treat for later--which, Remus supposed, it was--then gave little caresses to his ankles and the tops of his feet as Remus stepped out of his pants, leaving himself fully naked in front of Teddy, who hugged his father around his knees for a moment before clambering to his feet.

"Now me," he declared, and he held out his arms as he had when he was a child who needed help undressing for bed.

"You'd rather have me undress you, instead of showing off for me?" teased Remus gently.

Teddy nodded. "Please? Next time maybe I'll do that, if it's okay."

"Of course it is." Remus couldn't deny to himself that he'd enjoy revealing Teddy's body, bit by bit. Teddy had on a long-sleeved t-shirt--Remus had no idea what the logo on it represented, although he suspected it was one of the indistinguishable bands Teddy liked--so Remus began by simply sliding it up his torso, letting his fingers caress Teddy's ribs as he went, glancing across the nipples which came to tiny peaks as they were exposed to the cooler air.

"Lift," he instructed, and obediently Teddy raised his arms so that Remus could pull the shirt completely off. It was tempting to press kisses to Teddy's bare skin, soft and still mostly hairless, but that would wait until the next lesson. Instead Remus moved behind Teddy, briefly kneading Teddy's shoulders and neck, then pulling his son's body against him as he began to unfasten Teddy's jeans.

"No pants?" Remus's voice lifted in surprise, and Teddy shook his head.

"Um, well, I haven't done laundry in a while, and I kind of went through more underwear than usual these past two weeks," he mumbled. "I didn't have any clean to put on this morning."

Remus stroked down Teddy's bare cock, feeling Teddy quiver and his hips jolt against Remus. "I see." He made quick work of pulling Teddy's jeans off, kneeling and having Teddy turn and raise one foot, then the other, to let Remus remove his socks. Then he sat back, squatting, and looked up along Teddy's body. Teddy was already flushed and eager, prick rising hard out of dark-blue curls. Remus held out his hands and Teddy grasped them to help Remus stand up.

"Can I look at you again?" Teddy asked, swallowing.

"If you want, of course." Remus lay down on one side of the bed, propping himself up on his elbow. "Look all you want, and touch, and see how I respond."

Teddy crawled onto the bed, easing a hand up his father's thigh and past his hip, pausing at his waist before creeping downwards to rest for a moment in the nest of curls between Remus's legs. He flicked his eyes up to his father's face, as if to ask permission, and Remus gave a single nod.

Teddy moved closer, then, curling forward and bringing his face quite close to his father's erection. He stroked a single finger down its length, then back up again, making a little sighing sound when Remus shifted, pushing his hips forward.

He pillowed his head on one arm, uncharacteristically silent as he studied Remus's cock from every angle, playing with the foreskin, pulling it forward and pushing it back again. When Remus's cock began to seep fluid, Teddy's fingers were there to catch it, smearing it over the head and down the shaft, leaving sticky trails in his wake.

He explored Remus's balls next, teasing a finger along the seam, stroking the loose skin there and putting a little too much pressure on them for Remus's liking.

"Oof--" Remus exhaled, and Teddy looked up, the movement of his hand stopping at once.

"Bad?"

"Not--not bad, but yes, a little too much pressure there. Good job reading my signals, Ted."

Teddy smiled and pushed a little at Remus's hip. "Can you lie on your back, please?"

"Of course." Remus settled onto his back, his legs spread a little, not quite obscenely (though _obscene_ , by most standards, had been passed a long time ago), giving Teddy unfettered access to his jutting erection and his tightening sac.

"Oh, brilliant," Teddy breathed. He sat cross-legged at Remus's side and began playing with Remus's cock again, pumping it as Remus supposed he must do when he was alone, to his own cock.

"Ahh--" Remus gasped, and Teddy looked up again, sharply.

"No?"

"Not--it's good, but perhaps we should slow down a little." He smiled to soften the statement. "We have all the rest of the afternoon and evening, if we want... and remember, you may think I'm not old but I definitely don't have the recovery time I expect you do. Once or at most twice a day is pretty much my limit."

"I'm sorry." Teddy flushed. "I mean, I'm sorry I was rushing things."

"It's all right, Ted. Just think that the journey is worth taking; it's not all about the destination. Okay?"

"Okay." Teddy went back to fondling Remus's bollocks, his face intent as his fingers discovered their exact shape and weight, the fact that Remus liked to have them jostled very gently, the way the skin seemed to tighten as Remus's arousal increased. He was bent over Remus, looking intently, and Remus thought he was _smelling_ , too.

After a while Teddy began stroking Remus's cock once again, though less urgently this time. When he paused for a moment and raised his hand to his mouth, Remus was sure he was tasting the moisture from the tip--fair enough, as it wasn't kissing, strictly speaking. Remus was careful to be responsive to each of Teddy's touches, shifting his legs further apart to invite more exploration, making small sounds at each new movement Teddy tried.

This time instead of asking in words, Teddy put a hand on Remus's knee and urged him to raise it as Teddy shifted around to sit between Remus's legs. Remus knew what was coming, and indeed, Teddy started to trace down behind Remus's balls, towards his arsehole.

"I know, not inside," he said, looking up and meeting Remus's eyes as his finger touched the spot.

"Not yet," Remus agreed. "In a couple of lessons, though."

Teddy wet his lips. "The rimming one?"

"Mm hm." Remus arched his back slightly as Teddy kept rubbing around the tight pucker. "I find that some kind of lubricant makes a touch there more pleasurable, even if you're not penetrating me at all. There's a bottle on the table, if you want to use it. Or maybe we should switch places for a while?"

"You mean you'd touch my--my cock and my--" Teddy cut himself off, and Remus nodded.

"Yes, if you'd like me to," he said. Teddy seemed to consider this for a moment. He brought his hand down to his erection and gently caressed it, rubbing his thumb over the head. To Remus's eyes the action seemed almost unconscious.

"There's no pressure," Remus said, sitting up, smoothing back Teddy's hair with the palm of his hand. "And there never will be, not in these lessons. If you're _ever_ uncomfortable or doubtful about anything at all--"

"No, I want it," Teddy interrupted. He moved up to lie against the pillows, pressing his hand to the centre of his father's chest. "I want you to touch me," he said, bending close to Remus's neck and inhaling deeply.

Remus nearly, out of instinct, leaned forward and kissed the boy, but instead drew back and sat up.

"Very well," he said. "Hand me that lubricant."

Teddy did as directed, and Remus set it to one side for easy reach in a few moments' time. He began caressing Teddy's nearly hairless chest, then, tweaking his pert nipples and letting his hands slide down Teddy's flat belly in long, slow strokes. When he reached the dark blue pubic curls and raked through them with his fingertips, he felt Teddy tense, and when finally he wrapped his fingers around Teddy's straining erection, Teddy cried out and clutched at the quilt with both hands.

Remus immediately let go. "Too much?" he asked in the gentlest voice he could manage, which still sounded a little strained. Now that he had finally touched the cock of the boy he'd been fantasising about--and in this context, unlike at the restaurant or in his study, the fantasies didn't seem _quite_ so inappropriate--the last thing he wanted was for Teddy to lose control too quickly, essentially ending their lesson.

"I'm okay," Teddy choked out, relaxing his death grip on the duvet. "I just-- _wow_. It's been a while since anyone else touched me, and--"

"And, let me guess, even then it was just a bit of a fumble in a broom closet, your trousers around your knees, his hand too tight and too dry--yes?"

"Yes." Teddy's voice cracked again. "I--that's why I can't tell what I want." His right hand had crept back to his cock again, giving gentle strokes. "With Victoire, we didn't have to hide in the same way, I mean we _did_ but it was easier, it didn't matter if people guessed, but it was never as good as I thought it should be, and with the blokes it was always like a competition, how fast we could get each other off, before anyone caught us. It didn't, didn't _mean_ anything, you know?" He twisted his head and looked at Remus with disconsolate eyes.

"I know." Remus knew all too well. "Come here, Ted." He sat against the headboard and gathered Teddy into his lap. Teddy curled up against him with coltish grace, nestling his head into Remus's shoulder.

" _This_ can't mean what I think you want it to mean either." Remus felt Teddy stiffen, and hurried on. "I'm your dad. I love you very much, and I'm honoured that you trust me enough to want me to teach you, and I'm going to do the best I can with that; but we both know that's all it can be. You _will_ meet someone, closer to your own age and not forbidden, and that person is going to be very lucky to have you." He hugged Teddy tighter. "It takes time, that's all. I know you want everything _now_ \--why shouldn't you?--but that's just not how it usually happens. You're only eighteen. It's okay not to be in a relationship yet."

"You had Sirius when you were eighteen," Teddy muttered into Remus's chest.

"I did," Remus acknowledged, "but that didn't mean it was easy. There was the war, there was my condition, there was Sirius's estrangement from his family--and our relationship didn't exactly end well, with Sirius arrested for murder and taken to Azkaban."

"But he was innocent."

"He was, but I didn't know that, not for years. The evidence seemed pretty clear--James and Lily had been killed, and we all believed Sirius had been their Secret Keeper, and had killed Peter to try to keep from being caught. Sirius didn't even have a trial." Remus blinked hard. "I thought he was guilty, and I hated him for not being the person I'd thought he was, and hated myself for having loved him. We're getting pretty far afield here, though. I'm just trying to say that you need to not expect to have everything perfect all at once. Let yourself make mistakes, and let the person you're with make mistakes too."

Teddy gave a gusty sigh. "Okay. Can we get back to the lesson, then?"

Remus chuckled. "This is part of the lessons too; there's more to sex than just the physical part, as I think you understand. But yes." He spread his legs apart and manoeuvred Teddy between them, keeping one arm wrapped around his son as he reached for the lubricant. His own erection hadn't subsided much during their conversation, and as he pressed himself to Teddy, he knew the boy must be feeling the imprint of it on his spine. Remus felt the tiniest twinge of guilt for remaining aroused while simultaneously consoling Teddy and remembering Sirius.

But the twinge lessened when Teddy wriggled back a little, into the embrace and against Remus's hard prick, and Remus very nearly kissed Teddy's bare shoulder when he did. He stopped, though, just before his lips brushed Teddy's skin, and instead pressed his cheek to Teddy's neck, inhaling his good clean boy smell.

Remus coated his palm with lubricant. "Ready?" he murmured against Teddy's ear, and Teddy nodded. Remus wrapped his slicked hand around Teddy's cock and felt the boy stiffen in his embrace, his shoulders and spine going rigid.

"Relax, shh," Remus whispered, and Teddy made a palpable effort to do so, leaning back against his father's chest and letting his head fall forward as Remus stroked him, his movements certain, his hand steady.

Teddy relaxed further when Remus began to play with his balls, brushing over the loose skin there, rolling them gently in his left hand. Teddy let out a long sigh and melted into his father's embrace, his limbs going loose, the only noticeably solid part of him anymore his cock, which jutted insistently into Remus's hand.

"Dad," Teddy managed, his voice somehow at once both languid and demanding, "'S bloody _brilliant_. Don't stop, _please_."

Remus chuckled, brushing his lips against the soft skin of Teddy's shoulder in a not-quite kiss. "I won't," he promised, wondering why everything inside him wanted so very badly to kiss the boy.

 _Next lesson_ , he chided himself. _You can do it during the next lesson, and you know that the temptation won't be so strong once it's allowed_.

"I want to do it to you, too, please, Dad," came Teddy's voice, higher than usual, and at first Remus stupidly thought the boy had read his mind and wanted to kiss him, too.

"You--" he began, but Teddy was already turning around in the embrace and holding out a hand.

"I want to touch you, too," he said, "with the lubricant? At the same time. Please?"

Why it was more difficult to let Teddy touch him than the reverse, Remus didn't want to consider just now; it was, unquestionably, but this was part of what Teddy needed to learn, and so Remus took a deep breath and nodded.

"You'll need to move, then," he said, "or you won't be able to reach comfortably."

Teddy had already swivelled all the way around, draping his legs over Remus's thighs, wriggling so that their cocks were only inches apart. "Like this?"

"That's fine, yes." Remus picked up the lubricant bottle again and tipped some into Teddy's hand. "Have you used lube before, on yourself?"

"Not the proper stuff like this." Teddy rubbed his fingers against his palm experimentally. "Just hand lotion, or sometimes spit."

"It's worth having the 'proper stuff'. Especially for penetration, but even for other kinds of activities. There are lots of different kinds and you might want to try out a few." Remus gasped as Teddy's hand closed over his prick. "Some are even, _oh_ , flavoured." He fell silent then, reaching for Teddy in return.

For all his earlier words about going slowly, it was difficult to resist the desire to bring Teddy to a rapid orgasm, to see his son's face in ecstasy. The distraction of Teddy's touch helped, though, and with an effort Remus managed to concentrate on learning what speed and rhythm and firmness of stroke were Teddy's preference. He didn't neglect Teddy's bollocks, using his other hand to caress those, even slipping a finger down to press against the sensitive skin behind them, though his and Teddy's respective positions meant that he could not reach Teddy's arsehole easily.

What he was doing was apparently quite enough. Teddy had one hand on Remus's cock, still stroking it in a stuttering rhythm, but wrapped the other around his father's neck to hold himself upright as he began to make little gasping moans.

" _Godpleaseyes_ , _oh_!" Teddy let go of Remus's prick altogether when he came, instead clutching at the quilt by his hip. " _Oh_ ," he said again more softly as Remus milked him, coaxing the last spurts of semen out to spill across Remus's own slick skin. His eyes had fallen shut, and when he opened them they were bright blue, shining with joy.

"That was fantastic." Teddy's lips parted in a smile. "Please, I want to--" He began to stroke Remus again.

"Yes, all right, yes," Remus gasped, not hearing his own words, as Teddy's hands began once again to dance along the shaft of his cock, eager and curious and a little too fast.

"Slower..." Remus said, and Teddy obliged, though every few seconds, his hands picked up speed--which was all right, really, since he still wasn't going as quickly as he had at first.

Remus sank back against the headboard, his legs weighted down by Teddy's, his cock straining in Teddy's inexperienced fist. He nodded, gasped, shook his head a little, hoping somewhere in the back of his mind--the rest was too full of _pleasurepleasurepleasure_ \--that Teddy would pick up on his signals.

"Oh-- _oh_ \--" Remus gasped, jerking his hips forward, as Teddy apparently remembered Remus's bollocks existed and began to stroke them along with his prick.

"That's--" he managed, "Yes, and--there, and--the--" He couldn't form a complete sentence, try as he might, as his orgasm approached, his son's amateur yet intuitive hands on his prick and bollocks, and he slumped forward, cradling his head in the nook between Teddy's neck and shoulder, as he came, spurting ropy streams of semen onto Teddy's belly and hand, and onto his own hand as he brought it between them, half-protesting, half-encouraging.

"Ohhh," Remus exhaled, and Teddy made a similar noise, and they slumped into a heap of tangled limbs together, stuck to each other with semen and sweat, and once again Remus found himself wanting to kiss Teddy--he would have kissed Sam, after, but this _wasn't_ Sam, dammit, this was his son, his student, and they hadn't reached kissing yet.

He contented himself with gathering Teddy in his arms and stroking his hair, assuring him that he was a brilliant student and an even better son.

Remus hadn't fallen asleep with his son in his arms since Teddy was a toddler, and it was hardly close to bedtime for either of them, but as Teddy's breathing evened out and his eyelids drooped, Remus decided a that nap, each of them cosy in the others' arms, might not be amiss. It was a natural part of the whole experience, after all.

He had meant what he'd said earlier--the lessons couldn't be anything more than exactly that--but as he drifted, one hand in Teddy's hair, the other splayed across his sweaty back, Teddy's arms wrapped around him, that was the last thing on Remus's mind.  



	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teddy thought he knew how to kiss, but discovers he had a lot to learn--and goes a bit too far for Remus's comfort.

Teddy could hardly wait for the next lesson with his father. He'd wanted so badly to kiss him, the last time--and lesson three was _mouths_ , there could be all the kissing he wanted, _anywhere_.

His only disappointment was that Remus had explained that he had given Sam a key to the house, so that from now on they would need to be very careful about when their lessons were. Teddy understood in theory why his dad might have done that, but he wished that Remus had waited just a month or two more. He tried not to be resentful of Sam, though, the next time he saw him. Sam was an okay bloke really, and it was pretty obvious to Teddy that he liked Remus a lot--and more to the point, that Remus liked _Sam_. It wasn't always easy to remember that he mustn't show any jealousy, but Teddy did his best.

Remus sent him an owl with a message a week after their second lesson, asking if Tuesday evening would work for Teddy for the third one, and explaining that it was either that or wait until a week from Sunday, which would mean three weeks altogether between lessons. Teddy scowled at the parchment. He didn't want to wait, but on the other hand, Tuesday evening wasn't the most convenient time. He wouldn't even be able to get to the house before six or so, and they'd have to eat, and that meant not very much time.

After considerable thought he decided to ask if they could wait, hoping that his dad would be impressed by his maturity and self-control. Remus's reply assured him that it would be fine, and that he'd see him on the Sunday, at ten if Teddy wanted to come for breakfast. Of course he did; he wasn't much of a cook and Remus was.

In the meantime he practised quite a lot, wanking at least once most days. Sometimes he'd do it quickly in the morning before going to work, as he always had, but in the evenings he practised being slower, trying out different ways of touching himself, in other places than just his prick and balls. It had been far more enjoyable when it was Remus doing the touching; he found, though, that if he closed his eyes and imagined that it was his father trailing his fingers down Teddy's chest, or pinching his nipples hard, he could almost be surprised by the sensations, and that made it more pleasurable.

Teddy spent the day before he was supposed to have the third lesson in a fever of impatience. After trying out the lubricant with Remus, he'd worked up enough nerve to go and buy some of his own--at a Muggle shop, where no one could possibly recognise him--and now he uncapped it, pouring some into his palm and smoothing it over his prick. He lay on his side, stroking his cock slowly with one hand, pulling at one nipple with the other. He'd trimmed his nails that morning, and they were really too short to use to scrape his skin, which he'd found he enjoyed. Thoughtfully, Teddy dabbled a finger in the lube, and reached back to touch his arsehole. He'd never done more than that, simply rubbing the outside, and thought perhaps he would try a bit more today.

He took a deep breath and pressed forward with his fingertip. Nothing happened. He gave a little grunt of annoyance and splayed his legs farther apart, then exhaled and tried again, working his finger in semicircles.

"Ah-- _ah_ \--" Teddy grunted as he slowly worked his finger inside himself. When he had reached the first knuckle, he paused and opened his eyes.

Okay. Not bad. It didn't hurt at all, and he didn't even feel as stretched as he'd expected. He assumed it would be better when the finger inside him was his father's--but how long would he have to wait for that? If it were up to Teddy, they'd be at the final lesson by now, having gone through them all in rapid succession. He knew he wasn't anywhere near the point his father wanted him to be--patient, anticipatory, loving the _process_ and not just the climax of it.

He set his jaw and closed his eyes again. He'd get there. He was certain of it. He wasn't going to let his father down--it was just that he wasn't there _yet_. And for now--

Teddy pictured Remus's face above him, bending down for a kiss as his finger slid deeper into Teddy's slicked arsehole. Remus's fingers were somewhat thicker than Teddy's slim ones, and Teddy worked his own finger in deeper, probing, as he imagined his father simultaneously exploring his arsehole with a finger and his mouth with his tongue. Teddy worked his mouth open and shut, frustrated at its emptiness, wanting more than anything for his father to be there at that moment, kissing him, penetrating him.

He jerked hard at his cock as he pressed the tip of a second finger just inside his arsehole. Oh, _fuck_. That was more like it--he didn't want to go all the way in, not yet, but the stretch and burn made everything so much more _electric_ , and the one part of his brain that was still coherent told him he didn't want to come yet, but his body, his hormones, overrode his brain's order and as he shoved his second fingertip in a little further, he cried out and spattered himself with come.

Teddy rolled onto his side, slipping one finger, then the other, from his hole, and drew his knees up to his sticky belly, letting out a long sigh. _Fuck_ , that had been amazing. Yes, yes, he could definitely get used to this penetration thing. How was he going to wait however long it would be until the final lesson?

Except--he didn't _have_ to wait. He could go out, pull a bloke in a pub somewhere, go home with him and shag, if that was what he wanted. Teddy sighed again. He didn't want that. He'd persuaded Remus to teach him precisely _because_ he didn't want the kind of fumbling and meaningless encounters he'd had with boys at Hogwarts. With Victoire, at least, they had meant something to each other, and he'd enjoyed that even if the actual activities hadn't always been that satisfying.

He tried to remember exactly what the remaining lessons were, wishing that Remus had given him a copy. They'd done "touch" and "hands", and "mouths" was next, and "penetration" was the last one... Teddy's eyebrows drew together in thought. One of the others was "toys", he was pretty certain, but he wasn't sure if that was fourth or fifth, and what was the missing lesson? Something different. " _Rimming_ ", he recalled at last. Which meant, _ohgod_ , that was what he'd seen Remus doing to Sam, something Teddy had only heard whispered about before then, so filthy, and yet his father had put it on the list before penetration.

And Remus had been enjoying doing it, Teddy was sure. He licked his lips, trying to imagine how it would feel, to have his father's mouth on him _there_. There must be spells, cleaning spells, he supposed, that Remus would teach him. If he wanted. Which he wasn't sure about, really. He'd promised to follow his father's instructions for these lessons, but Remus had also assured him more than once that if he wasn't comfortable with something, he only had to say so. Maybe he'd wait and see how he felt when it came to it.

The spunk had long since cooled on his body, tightening the skin uncomfortably. Teddy got up. He'd take a quick shower and then have something to eat, maybe go out to see a Muggle film or just to a pub. He knew that a few of his acquaintances from work were likely to be at the Leaky Cauldron. That would be a good way to pass the evening.

As he expected, the pub was filled with a convivial Saturday night crowd, and he found a couple of blokes he knew. One of them, Simon, Teddy thought might be queer too, but he felt shy of trying to find out for certain. Maybe once he'd had the rest of his lessons, and knew what he was doing, he'd be more ready to do that.

He stayed out later than he'd intended, and then overslept and had to race to his father's house, arriving a few minutes after ten and sniffing at the delicious smell of breakfast.

"Sorry I'm late, Dad," he apologised as he strode into the kitchen.

Remus looked up from the Sunday _Prophet_ , smiled, and took off his reading glasses. "I'm glad you made it, Ted," he said, pushing out the chair next to his. Teddy filled a plate at the stove--his father had obviously cast a charm on the scrambled eggs and the sausages to keep them warm without drying out--and sat, shovelling the food in his mouth to counteract the twinges of a hangover that he was fighting.

"Did you go out last night?" There was no trace of admonition in Remus's voice, only curiosity as he folded the paper and set it aside.

Teddy nodded. "Down to the Leaky. Met a few blokes from work there." He looked up, suddenly aware of the implications his words might have. "Not _met_ them there. You know. Just hanging about, having a few drinks. I went home alone." Satisfied that he had cleared up any misconceptions he might have caused, Teddy went back to his eggs.

"I see." Remus rose and took his plate to the sink. "You had a nice time, though?"

"Sure," said Teddy, "Just a regular Saturday night."

Fifteen minutes' worth of small talk later, Teddy stretched and cracked his knuckles.

"So," he said, unwilling to wait much longer for such an anticipated lesson, "Kissing."

Remus was clearly taken off guard; he choked a little on his tea and raised his eyebrows.

"Have you been looking forward to this lesson?"

 _Only every day for the past three sodding weeks_ , Teddy wanted to answer, but instead he just nodded. "Honestly, yeah, I have."

"Clear your plate, then, and we'll go upstairs."

Teddy did as Remus bade him, and they ascended the stairs together.

"Have you been practising what we learned last time?" Remus asked as they walked down the hallway to the spare bedroom.

"Um, yeah." Teddy turned his hair magenta for an instant and then back again to brown. "At least once a day." He wasn't quite sure if he should tell his father that he'd finally tried putting a finger actually in his own arse, and had liked it. Remus might think he was pushing too fast.

Remus evidently caught his hesitation. "Did you want to talk about something first?"

"I... I know I'm supposed to practise things from the past lessons, but I sort of worked ahead?" Teddy ducked his head and looked up at his father through his eyelashes. The innocent-little-boy look had served him well in the past, even with Professor McGonagall. He hoped it would work again today.

"In what sense did you 'work ahead'?" Remus folded his arms. _Bollocks_ , it wasn't working.

"I wanted to see what it would be like to have something inside. You know." Teddy squirmed. "I bought some lubricant after the last lesson, and tried just with a finger."

"And did you like it?" To Teddy's relief, his father seemed more curious than angry. "Did you find your prostate?"

"I liked it a lot, but no, I don't think so. I'm not sure? How can you tell?"

Remus seated himself against the head of the bed and held out a hand to Teddy. "Come here. No, first get that blue-bound book--the second one down--from that stack on the table and bring it over."

Teddy found the book and crawled over the mattress to sit next to Remus, who put one arm around him.

"I was going to talk about this in a later lesson, but I suppose we might as well begin now. You know what the prostate is, right?"

"A gland?" Teddy tried to remember what he'd learned back when he was twelve. "Something to do with semen?"

"Yes, that's right. It secretes some of the seminal fluids. It's inside, and sometimes you can feel it through the perineum, behind your bollocks, or else by going through the anus. Many men, though certainly not all, enjoy the sensation when it's touched--it can be quite intense." Remus spoke quite clinically. Then he flipped open the book and pointed at one of the illustrations.

"Oh." Teddy had expected more erotic photographs like the ones in the first books his father had shown him. He was less than excited to be shown a cross-section of the male anatomy, with blue and orange bits that he was fairly sure weren't blue or orange at all in real life.

Remus tapped the page, pointing to a gland that was outlined in a dark purple. "Your prostate," he announced. Teddy nodded, unsure how exactly this was supposed to help him.

"So I--what--just sort of fiddle around in there until I find it?" He let out a giggle that turned into a snort, then coughed to cover his embarrassment. "Sorry," he said, "I just--the drawing's fine and all, but I thought you were going to show me, you know, some more of those photographs. The sexy ones."

"Those photographs would hardly show you exactly what you're going to be looking for," Remus replied, and he stroked Teddy's hair a little. Teddy leaned into the touch, pressing himself to his father.

"I want you to know everything you need to know," said Remus, hugging him back. "Even if it's not always all that interesting or exciting."

Teddy nodded. "Is there more?" He hoped not.

"I think you're a little young to worry about the things that can go wrong with your prostate, so no, not right now. But I do want you to take this book home with you and look through it. There's both male anatomy and female, and some other useful information too." Remus closed the book and handed it to Teddy, who stretched out to put it on the table for the moment.

"If you do try playing with your arse again before the next lesson, I recommend plenty of lubricant. Do you know the cleansing spell?"

"Well, I know _Tergeo_ and _Scourgify_ , but aren't those too strong?" asked Teddy, feeling a twinge in his arse at the thought.

"Probably," Remus said, "although like a lot of magic, how they work depends on the wizard's intentions. I find that _Ablue_ or _Purga_ are better. You can practise those, too." He smiled at Teddy. "Actually, it would be a good idea to do that--they'll be useful in our next lesson. _Ablue_ is my favourite, but see which you prefer."

"I will." Teddy wriggled closer to Remus again. "But can we get back to _this_ lesson now? Please?"

"Okay." Remus's breath hitched slightly, and suddenly Teddy realised that his father was nervous. About kissing him! Which made Teddy somehow feel better.

"I kissed Victoire a lot," he said, "but not the other boys much. Can I--can I kiss you?"

In response Remus turned his head and brushed his lips over Teddy's cheek, murmuring, "All right, Ted."

Teddy swallowed and reached up to touch Remus's face, tipping his head so that-- _at last, at last_ his heart sang--their mouths met. His father's lips were firm under Teddy's, moving, opening, and then his tongue licked over Teddy's lower lip and Teddy opened his mouth further, wanting it all at once. Remus's hands were threaded into Teddy's hair as if he were afraid Teddy would disappear if he let go.

Remus made a funny little choking sound in the back of his throat and pressed forward, keeping one hand tightly wound in Teddy's hair but moving the other lower, splaying it against his back, rucking up Teddy's shirt a little. Teddy responded by putting one hand in Remus's hair--clearly his father liked that--and tugging a little. And though his other hand began to tremble as Remus continued kissing him, Teddy brought it between them and pressed it to his father's chest, just above his heart.

Remus shook a little when Teddy touched him, and he held Teddy tighter and shifted, pressing Teddy down upon the pillows, still kissing his mouth, his tongue exploring, his lips wet with Teddy's saliva and his own.

Teddy whimpered. He couldn't help himself. He whimpered into the kiss, his eyelids fluttering, his hands still trembling, his heart beating so hard he was afraid for a moment that it might burst.

And all from a _kiss_.

But kissing had _never_ been like this before. Victoire had been a little too wrapped up in what Teddy was doing to the rest of her, tweaking her nipples and stroking her shoulder and her hair in just the right way, and not wedging a knee between her legs too early or she'd give the whole damned thing up completely. It was as if she'd expected him to have a dozen hands, like that Indian god he'd seen in one of Remus's big books when he was a kid.

And it was true that he'd never really properly kissed any of the boys he'd been with--they'd all, Teddy included, been too concerned with getting off in the interval between classes. There'd been no time for kissing--and most of the time, there hadn't even been much desire for it.

Remus continued kissing his mouth, and Teddy whimpered again and tipped his head back a little, and he nearly cried out when his father broke the kiss.

But then Remus's lips were on him again, and though Teddy's mouth felt bruised and empty, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up when Remus began kissing the tender skin of his throat, with his lips and with his tongue and with his whole mouth, alternating little sucking kisses with big warm wet ones.

" _Fuck_ ," Teddy gasped, arching up underneath Remus, " _Dad_."

Remus took his lips away, then, raising his head to look into Teddy's eyes. Remus's mouth looked swollen, hanging open a little, his lips glistening with their shared saliva. His eyes were half-lidded--he looked as dazed as Teddy felt.

"Dad," Teddy whispered, "Oh-- _oh my god, Dad_."

Something flickered across Remus's face, and then he shut his eyes and turned his head away, closing his mouth as he swallowed.

"Dad?" asked Teddy desperately, feeling suddenly alone and cold although his father's body was still warm against him.

With a shuddering breath, Remus looked back at him. "Just--give me a moment, Teddy."

Teddy waited, replaying in his mind those kisses, not daring to ask for more until Remus was ready. They'd never undressed, and his cock was bursting, trapped uncomfortably in his tight jeans, but he didn't move, either.

At last Remus sighed, and lowered his head to Teddy's neck again, his lips travelling along it to the hollow of Teddy's throat. Teddy trembled as Remus's hands deftly undid the buttons of his shirt--he'd been careful not to wear a t-shirt this time--and Remus's mouth slid lower, sucking at Teddy's left nipple as his fingers pinched the right one.

 _Fuck, fuck_ , so that was why Victoire always wanted him to touch her breasts. Teddy writhed, his hips moving, trying to find friction to satisfy his longing.

"Shh," Remus murmured against his skin.

"Please--please Dad," begged Teddy, hearing his voice break and not caring. Remus's warm hand caressed his belly, soothing him. "Please--I need--"

"I know." Remus stilled for a moment, then Teddy felt his father shift. All in an instant, it seemed, Teddy's jeans and pants were pulled down, but he hardly had time to feel the cool air against his heated skin before the warmth and wetness of Remus's mouth enclosed him. Teddy clutched at Remus's shoulders, his orgasm spilling out within seconds. Remus swallowed around him, his tongue lapping Teddy clean, as Teddy lay in dazed lassitude.

Then his father's face was next to his own again, and Teddy tasted himself on Remus's lips as he kissed him. It was still just as erotic as the first time, but less urgent, and Teddy was able to appreciate the ways that Remus moved his lips and tongue and try to imitate them. After a while, he pulled back and rested his forehead on Remus's shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"For coming?" Remus's voice was husky. "Don't be. That was my intention. The lesson isn't over yet--and now you should be able to keep better control to learn more."

Teddy let out a great sigh, closing his eyes and burrowing a little further into his father's embrace. _Good_. He'd been afraid he'd ended the lesson within the first ten minutes--the lesson he'd been anticipating for _weeks_ now.

"Okay," he said, "I'm ready to learn." Remus's kisses and the-- _oh god, it had been, hadn't it?_ \--the _blowjob_ had all gone by so quickly that Teddy hadn't learned a damned thing.

He let go of Remus's shoulders and fell back onto the pillows, and his father followed, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead.

"Now," Remus said, "Kissing. You do seem to have some idea what you're doing with your mouth, which is good, since much of kissing is instinctual. Once again, you'll have to learn what your partner likes--some people prefer soft, slow kisses, while other like more aggressive ones, and still others like you to vary the kisses according to what else you're doing at the time. Follow their physical cues--if your partner opens his mouth right away, for example, or if he starts with a series of closed-mouth kisses along your lips." He trailed his hand along the side of Teddy's jaw, and Teddy shivered. Somehow all this technical talk about kisses was turning him on a fair amount--not as much as the actual kisses had, but then, he thought, maybe nothing in the world could be that erotic ever again.

He blinked up at his father and nodded. "What about--the other places?" He put his hand to his throat, tracing over where his father's mouth had been only minutes ago.

"Yes, ah--" Remus paused and cleared his throat. "Yes, Ted, as you discovered, kisses to the neck and throat can be an incredible turn-on for many people. As with anything else, they're not for everyone--I've known people who would as soon kiss a house-elf as have their throat kissed. But since you seemed to enjoy it--"

" _Yeah_ ," Teddy interjected.

"--we'll continue next with that. Come here." Remus sat up, spreading his legs wide, and Teddy followed, crawling into his lap and facing him.

It felt odd, but safe, that he was naked but Remus still dressed. He could see the bulge of his father's erection through his trousers-- _will I get to suck him?_ \--and was glad that he'd come once already, because his own cock was already starting to be interested again. Teddy nestled close and Remus put his arms around him.

"Now. Remember our lesson on touch and breath?" Remus's breath was damply warm against Teddy's ear and neck, and Teddy found himself shivering a little. "Your ears and throat both seem to be very sensitive. That means that certain kinds of touch or kissing might tickle. If something tickles, laugh! Tell your partner that you're ticklish. It's not insulting not to find everything arousing, and if you can't have a sense of humour in bed, there's not much to the relationship outside it--or so I've found."

He touched Teddy's neck very lightly, drawing his fingertips downward, and it did tickle a little bit. Teddy grinned and told him, "Yes, it tickles that way."

"So." Remus repeated the movement, this time pressing a fraction more firmly.

"Mm hm." Teddy tilted his head to expose his throat more. "That's better."

"And the same can be done with the mouth." Now Remus's lips were there, more flexible than his fingers, and his tongue darted out to lick tiny stripes across the skin as he moved. Each wet inch that he left behind seemed extra-sensitive to the movement of the air, as if Remus were still kissing the spot.

Teddy gasped and clutched at Remus's shirt. " _Oh._ "

Remus reached the base of Teddy's throat and lapped across it, then gently tugged Teddy back. "I could tell you enjoyed that from your reactions--again, don't hide them. Some people may be comfortable saying exactly what they like or don't like in words, but in my experience the majority feel embarrassed about doing that, so all you have to go on is the sounds and movements they make. Do you understand?"

"Yes." Teddy nodded, meeting Remus's serious gaze. "My turn?"

"If you like." Remus shifted a little, and Teddy wondered if he was too heavy to keep sitting like this on Remus's legs. Was this a lesson in reading Remus's signals? He asked.

Remus smiled. "Very good. Shall we lie down together?"

Teddy nodded, slipping from his father's lap and lying on his side, propping his head up with one hand.

"Dad?"

"Yes?" Remus stretched out alongside him.

"Do you think--can I take off your shirt?" By the time he'd finished his question, his free hand was already creeping forward towards Remus's buttons. By way of response, Remus lay on his back and let out the softest of sighs as Teddy undressed him, bending close to his skin.

He knew he was welcome to touch, even to kiss anywhere he liked this time, but his mouth went dry at the thought. His father smelled so _good_ , like soap from his morning's shower and butter from breakfast and his own particular smell underneath it all, the smell that spoke to Teddy of comfort, of reassurance, of love.

He bent closer, brushing his lips across the centre of his father's chest.

When Remus's breath came in a shuddering sigh, Teddy knew he'd done something right.

He did it again, a little more firmly, kissing and inhaling all at once, Remus's shirt undone and pushed open, Remus's chest and belly exposed for Teddy's mouth to explore freely. Teddy left a trail of kisses down his father's breastbone, his hands wandering to brush over Remus's collarbone, nipples, ribs.

He traced with his tongue the trail of a scar that cut across Remus's chest, just under his right nipple, and Remus drew in a sharp breath, hissing.

Teddy lifted his head. "Bad?"

"The scars are... sensitive," Remus explained, "Scar tissue's a strange thing. It's difficult to explain. When it's touched or kissed, it somehow feels dead and alive at the same time, the sensation simultaneously dulled and extra-sensitive. I wish I could explain it better for you. But, no. It's not necessarily bad--in small doses."

Teddy looked down at his own belly where he had a scar from when his appendix had been taken out when he was a boy. He trailed his fingers over it, noticing that his father was watching.

"You could show me," he said.

"I could." Remus wriggled down the bed and brushed over the scar with his fingers, first, following up with his tongue. It _was_ a strange sensation--Teddy decided that his father's description was probably as good as possible. He thought maybe the weird feeling resulted from the difference between the scar tissue itself and the undamaged skin next to it.

When he gave a little whimper, Remus paused, looking up at Teddy. "Shall I keep on, or do you want to kiss me some more?" His thumb rubbed a circle on the crease of Teddy's thigh.

"Kiss you," said Teddy immediately. Maybe he'd end up coming a second time before Remus did even once, but he didn't want to risk that happening this quickly, and if Remus were to keep on kissing and licking at his stomach and thighs--much less his cock and balls--Teddy was pretty sure he'd lose control again.

Remus nodded and moved back to lie beside Teddy once more. Teddy buried his nose in the curls of his father's chest. He couldn't get enough of that scent, trust made manifest. Carefully he traced the scars with his tongue, following an erratic pattern down towards Remus's navel, where he encountered the waistband of Remus's trousers.

This time he didn't ask, just unfastened them and began to slide the thick material down. Remus lifted his hips an inch or two to let Teddy do so, settling back afterward, the outline of his rigid cock plain through the white cotton of his pants. Teddy pressed a kiss to the tip, sliding his lips along the bulge, heady with the musky smell. Remus gave a shaky sigh as Teddy reached his bollocks, and spread his thighs wider.

Teddy lifted his head to see Remus gazing down at him. "That's lovely, Ted," he said in a husky voice. "You don't have to keep on if you don't want, though."

"Why wouldn't I?" asked Teddy, confused, and Remus shrugged.

"I'm only reminding you that there's never any rush in these lessons," he said, inhaling sharply as Teddy rubbed the base of his prick through the fabric. "But of course if you're ready, that's fine."

In answer Teddy pulled at the elastic waistband, lifting it up so that it wouldn't catch Remus's cock as Teddy tugged the pants off completely. His mouth watered. Almost shyly, he let his lips brush along Remus's cock, noting the slight curve. He'd only done this a couple of times before with boys from school, and then it had been quick and furtive, no time to really taste and enjoy.

Remus's cock twitched suddenly, and Teddy laughed before he could stop himself. He looked up to find his father was grinning, too.

"Good," Remus said, "I like to hear that laughter."

Teddy smiled and lowered his head, torn between studying Remus's cock as he mouthed over it and watching his father's face. He settled for looking up at his father through the dark fence of his eyelashes, flicking his gaze downwards every couple of seconds, then back up. Remus's face as Teddy licked along the shaft of his cock was ever-changing. An almost-smile played across his lips as Teddy lifted his cock to toy with the ridge of foreskin, and he rounded his mouth in a silent _Oh_ when Teddy took a deep breath and engulfed the head of Remus's prick in his mouth, sucking gently.

"Oh, _very_ good," Remus breathed almost inaudibly, putting a hand in Teddy's hair. Teddy took more of Remus's cock in his mouth at this show of enjoyment, and nearly choked himself in his exuberance.

He came up spluttering, putting a hand around the shaft of his father's cock so as not to leave it entirely.

Remus sat up, his face a mask of concern, his erection still pulsing and hard in Teddy's hand.

"You're all right?" he asked, and Teddy nodded, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth. He was _fine_ , he insisted, and he dragged his fingers along Remus's erection to show his father exactly how _fine_ he was.

Remus leaned forward then, hesitating only a little, and Teddy bridged the gap between them with unnecessary force, kissing his father hard on the mouth. He put his hands on Remus's face and neck and in his hair, everywhere, as Remus kissed him back just as hard. Teddy's cock went fully erect, then, at the taste of his father's tongue on his, the wet smacking sounds of his father's lips against his own.

"I'm _fine_ ," Teddy said again, breaking the kiss, and he guided his father's hand to his own prick. "See?"

Remus nodded, running his thumb over the head, causing Teddy to shiver. "So I see," he said.

"I want to taste you now," Teddy said then, and he bent to take the tip of his father's cock in his mouth once again, careful this time not to swallow too much of it at once. Remus sighed and spread his legs, still sitting up, and he began to stroke through Teddy's hair as Teddy suckled gently at the tip of his penis.

Fluid began to seep from Remus's cock and Teddy lapped at it, craving more, disappointed when more did not come immediately. He looked up to find his father gazing down at him, his eyes dark with desire.

"More, Dad," he said, aware of how young he must sound. "Please, I want to taste you more."

Remus chuckled. "I can't exactly make it happen."

"No, I mean," Teddy's voice quavered, "I want you to come in my mouth."

"Teddy..." Remus caressed his ear, his neck. "All right, if that's what you want."

There was more of the tangy fluid welling from the slit when Teddy bent his head down again. He thought he could never get tired of tasting it, but he crawled backward so that he could lick along the underside of Remus's cock, down, down, finally taking Remus's bollocks into his mouth, feeling the tender round stones in their sac.

"Careful," Remus murmured, and rested his hand on Teddy's shoulder. "Be gentle there."

Teddy suckled cautiously, using his tongue. The scent of his father was strong here, complementing the salty-sweat, tangy flavour of his skin. Remus's fingers stroked him in return, along his collarbone and throat, until Teddy succumbed to the urge to go back to Remus's cock, where he could be more playful, lapping at him, even nipping as long as Teddy kept his lips over his teeth.

He could hear Remus's breath quickening, and the flesh in his mouth seemed to be so hard it practically quivered. " _Oh_ \--that's, yes, very good indeed."

His father's praise inspired him to redouble his efforts, using one hand to wrap around the base of Remus's cock, since he couldn't take more than half in his mouth without risking gagging. He clamped his mouth over the head and _sucked_ , his tongue running around the crown, back and forth. He was lying on his own cock, pressed against the quilt, moving his hips fractionally in time with the movements of his lips and tongue. _God_ , he'd never imagined anything like this--he'd never be content with a hasty blowjob in a corner again.

"Nearly there," Remus gasped above him, to Teddy's relief. His jaw was getting a little tired, although he wouldn't have stopped for anything. He rubbed and sucked and suddenly he felt Remus's cock pulse against his tongue, and the back of his throat was filled with the bitterness of his father's come. He choked a bit, trying to swallow without letting his teeth scrape Remus, and had to draw away in order to breathe, but then he went back to lap it all up the way that Remus had done for him.

When he had finished, licking the last of his father's come from the corners of his mouth and wiping the fluid that had managed to escape and dribble down his chin, Teddy sat up, breathing hard. His eyes watered from the physical strain of the blowjob and--though he wouldn't ever have admitted it to anyone--from the emotion of it all as well. He hastily wiped his hand across them, letting out what might have passed for a rueful laugh at his unexpected reaction.

There was the shortest of pauses before Remus enveloped Teddy in his arms, and Teddy let his own arms creep around his father's back. He pressed a kiss to Remus's collarbone, and Remus hummed a little when he did.

"Teddy," Remus murmured against his hair, "My boy. My boy." Teddy couldn't quite place the emotion in his father's voice, and he didn't try, just let himself be held and rocked a little until Remus let him go.

Teddy furrowed his brow. "It was all right?"

Remus took him by the shoulders, gripping him hard. "Do you have to ask?"

 _Judge how you're doing by your partner's reactions_ , Teddy reminded himself, _his sounds and movements_. A corner of his mouth twitched into a smile.

"My boy," Remus said again, caressing his face, and Teddy wondered a little why he sounded proud and sad all at once.

"It was a brilliant lesson, Dad," Teddy managed. He let his hand creep into his lap to squeeze his erection. Maybe this wasn't the perfect time to remind his dad that he was still aroused, despite the fact that his father had given him a mind-blowing orgasm not long ago (though it seemed eons had passed since then).

"It doesn't have to be over, Ted," Remus said. "You're clearly still eager to learn." His larger hand followed Teddy's, then, covering it and squeezing.

Teddy groaned. "I'll probably be quick again," he mumbled, but Remus only combed his fingers through Teddy's hair and laid him across the bed and kissed him everywhere before taking his cock in his mouth.

Teddy had been right--he came quickly, but this time he was able to note and enjoy much of what Remus was doing with his lips and tongue, and when he did come, he had the presence of mind to warn his father, who didn't take his mouth away, but swallowed Teddy's seed just as Teddy had done for him.

"I love you, Dad," blurted Teddy impulsively as Remus was kissing his way back up Teddy's body. Remus's head jerked, and there was a perceptible pause before he pressed one more kiss to Teddy's throat, and sat up.

"You know I love you too, Teddy... but I think maybe I need to remind you about the second condition for these lessons." Remus met Teddy's eyes steadily.

"But it's just us. We're not in public. I'll behave then, I promise." To Teddy's dismay the tears were threatening again. "And I do love you, I do."

Remus sighed and smiled and shook his head. "I know. All right. Shush now, it's all right." He pulled Teddy close again, and Teddy could hear his father's heart beating fast. "As long as you remember, it's all right."

Teddy nestled against Remus, his thoughts and emotions too complicated for him to want to even try to figure out right then. They sat there together for quite a long time, until finally Remus said, "Your old man's arm is falling asleep, Teddy. I think we'd better get up." He let go of Teddy, who reluctantly moved so that Remus could swing his legs around and stand, pulling his clothes back on as Teddy watched.

"Dad?"

"Yes?"

"Um, I'm not sure what I'm supposed to practise for next time. And when can we have that lesson?" Teddy asked.

"Kissing isn't easy to practise alone," agreed Remus. "Now, if you know someone you can do it with, you should take advantage of the opportunity--"

"I don't want to," interrupted Teddy.

"--but whether you do or not," his father continued as if he hadn't heard Teddy, "I want you to read through that book we were looking at, so that you thoroughly understand all the anatomical considerations. The male and also the female, while you're at it. And you can practise those two cleaning spells I mentioned, which you'll need to know for next time."

"When will that be?" Teddy tried not to sound too impatient.

"I'm not sure, Ted. I need to find out what Sam's schedule is, although mine won't be a problem." Remus glanced upward, and Teddy knew he was thinking about the full moon, which would occur the next day. "I'll let you know as soon as I can, though."  



	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus, Sam, and Teddy go to a Quidditch match, Remus and Sam have a romantic evening together, and Remus takes Teddy somewhere new.

Remus did his utmost to discuss what Teddy should do before his fourth lesson, and when that might be, with calm and certainty. The lesson on mouths and kissing had been significantly more emotionally wrenching than he had expected, even if some of that could perhaps be attributed to the fact that the moon would be full the next night, and his body was already beginning to respond to it.

It had been difficult, though. Even as he talked them both back to a more usual father-son state, closing the spare room door behind them and offering to take Teddy for fish and chips before he went home to his own flat, Remus's mind kept presenting him with memories of the taste of Teddy's lips, his unselfconscious responsiveness to Remus's kisses, the sounds he made as he came in Remus's mouth-- _twice, god_. He was careful to keep his long cardigan on and buttoned all the way down, disguising his physical response. It was cold enough, this time of year, that Teddy wouldn't notice anything unusual in that.

He sighed with mixed relief and regret when Teddy bounced out of the door, having given Remus one last embrace and a kiss on the cheek that was no more than he would have given his father six months before, but which now carried far more with it. He'd have a good satisfying wank, he decided, and then--no, tomorrow, a bit late tonight--he'd send an owl to Sam, try to find out what Sam's schedule for the next several weeks might be. Remus would be leaving work early Monday, and taking Tuesday off to recover, which meant he'd be working next Saturday, but he could offer to have dinner with Sam then anyhow.

Before he did anything else, though, he cleaned up the spare room, changing the sheets and making sure everything was tidy. Not that he expected any guests, but it seemed appropriate. Then he went to his own room and looked over his collection of toys, considering whether he would use one tonight. That reminded him that he had planned to buy Teddy a graduated set of plugs as a gift; he had better do so soon, so he could give them to Teddy at the next lesson and allow Teddy to use them as part of his practise and preparation for the fifth one, if he wanted. Though apparently Teddy had already acquired lubricant on his own.

Thinking of Teddy slipping a plug into his tight pink hole decided Remus on using one himself. The biggest one he had. It had been a while since he'd used it, but that oughtn't to be a problem, if he took it slowly. Sam's cock was pretty good-sized, after all.

Remus lifted the toy from its box, marvelling at the heft of it in his hand, its smooth contours. He set it on the bedside table, taking the lubricant from the drawer and placing it alongside, in preparation for his wank.

When he'd undressed, dropping his clothes in the hamper, he doused all the lights save the one on his bedside table. It illuminated the little tableau he had set up, the plug dwarfing the bottle of lubricant, and Remus felt himself clench involuntarily at the idea that the plug would soon be inside him. He was craving penetration as he sometimes did just before the moon--and when this particular craving hit, his small plugs simply would not do.

Remus sat on the bed against the headboard, his legs spread wide. His cock was half-hard already in anticipation of penetrating himself with the big toy, and he coaxed himself to full stiffness with only a few strokes, his mouth curving into a smile as he did so.

He took the lubricant from the bedside table, coating his fingers liberally with the stuff, and smoothed it over the shaft of his cock, then smeared what remained over his arsehole. He blew out a long breath.

Once he had relaxed, he began to finger his arsehole, leaving his cock bobbing untouched for the moment. He scraped his fingernails over his thigh as he penetrated himself, letting out a shuddering sigh when finally he had three fingers flexing inside his arse.

It was time for the plug.

Remus reached for it with his free hand and pressed it to his arsehole as he slipped his fingers out one by one, leaving himself stretched and ready for the blissful burn of penetration with something so large.

As the plug entered him, he gasped. _Fuck_ , yes, this was exactly what he had wanted, to be penetrated and stretched so far that he almost thought he might not be able to bear it. He willed himself to open wider as he pressed the toy into his slick hole, hissing and grabbing at the duvet with his free hand.

A final push, a little pop, and then it was inside him, filling him just as he had desired. Remus lay there for a moment, his knees drawn up and spread wide, and just held the plug in place, floating through the feeling of fullness before he began touching himself.

The wide flared base of the plug let him hold it easily, sliding it in and out as his other hand worked his cock. Remus groaned, the pressure of the toy against his prostate sending ripples of sensation through him. Sam was a very good lover, but sometimes it was better to take care of these needs oneself. He did regret not having Sam there to kiss and to be kissed back, however, after what he'd shared with Teddy. His son had great potential, but Remus was leery of taking things too far. It was clear that Teddy was inclined to take the lessons too seriously, despite his promises. Remus let himself recall the sweetness of Teddy's mouth, both against his lips and around his prick.

He needed _more_. Remus paused and rearranged himself, kneeling so that he could hold the base of the plug against the mattress and sink down on it, pushing it as deeply as possible. It was a little awkward, crouching, but the result was worth it. He teased the crown of his cock, glancing down at the flaring scarlet head that bobbed against his belly. He determinedly imagined Sam there, rather than Teddy, sucking him. He'd not played with toys with Sam; perhaps he should suggest it.

Rocking against the plug, his bollocks nearly brushing the mattress as he rose and fell, Remus could feel his orgasm approaching. He slowed his tempo, drawing out the pleasure of it. The heat rose in a steady wave, flooding through him and at last cresting, semen spurting through his fingers as he shuddered and stilled.

Remus sank down to the bed, rolling over and touching the plug that still filled him so delightfully, shivering with the last aftershocks as he withdrew it. The emptiness almost had a sensation of its own, something he had always thought odd, but rather enjoyed. After a few moments to relax, he sat up and padded off to the bathroom to clean the plug properly--soap and water did a better job than any cleaning charm, although he'd used those as well before.

No, as he'd assured Teddy, there was nothing wrong with a good wank, even if you had a compatible partner. Though he did look forward to seeing Sam later in the week, and he would definitely feel Sam out about the possibility of trying a few new things together. He rather thought Sam might be more knowledgeable about certain practises than he'd previously indicated. After all, Remus knew full well he'd not heard the extent of what Sam had done during his rock star days--and if Remus had things he didn't share, sexually, why shouldn't Sam?

Remus rolled his eyes a bit at himself at this last idea. Somehow, he thought, Sam's sexual secrets probably weren't as big as Remus's most recent one.

He dressed in pyjamas and put the plug and the lubricant away, slipping between the sheets, ready for sleep to overtake him.

But sleep wouldn't come.

He growled and rearranged his pillows, flopping over onto his other side. He needed rest, for he knew he'd get little the next night. He had thought the wank would do him some good, relax him after the day with Teddy.

Oh, _Teddy_. Remus cringed as he recalled the plaintive note in Teddy's voice when he'd told Remus he loved him. They were walking a dangerous edge. He'd have to have a long talk with Teddy before their next lesson to clear the air. Maybe encourage him to go out to a club, or nose around to see if any of his mates might be having the same feelings Teddy was. Even if it was just a one night stand or a casual string of dates, Teddy would become a little less dependent on Remus, and that could only be a good thing.

Remus sighed and rolled onto his stomach. He already knew Teddy would refuse. But it was worth a try. He hoped.

He wondered if perhaps the lesson on kissing had been a bad idea. _Too late now_ , he chided himself. Kissing was just so much more intimate than anything they'd already done--and, really, anything else they were going to do. A fuck was a fuck, a blowjob a blowjob. Bodies were bodies and spoke of need, but when mouths met, they spoke greater volumes than bodies ever could.

Remus traced his fingers over his lips as he lay there in the semidarkness, moonlight streaming through a crack in the curtains. What had he _done_?

He was still worrying over it when, finally, sleep overcame him.

The next day he worked only until mid-afternoon, needing to go home and take the Wolfsbane Potion before the moon rose; early, at this time of year. He drank it with distaste, then made his usual sweep of the house, ensuring that all the doors and windows were secure, before retreating to the cellar he'd had reinforced years before.

No one had stayed with him during his transformations since Sirius. Tonks had offered to do so, but Remus feared that even with the potion to keep him calm and relatively harmless, the sheer _change_ in him would disturb the delicate equilibrium of their relationship. Far better to be alone, he thought. He never remembered much of the night, only vague sensory impressions, but the transformation back to his human form was never less than excruciating as bone and sinew and muscle tore themselves apart and re-knitted. He howled his way through the pain--not something he wanted anyone to witness, sympathetic though they might be.

Whimpering, he lay naked on the carpet, until the cold creeping through forced him to rise and put on the dressing gown and slippers he'd left hanging from hooks on the wall, where the wolf usually would not disturb them. He'd go and have a hot bath, then some tea, and rest the day away. Sam might drop by that afternoon, he'd indicated in his reply to Remus's note yesterday.

Unlike last month, though, Remus had determined that he wouldn't rely on Sam to bring him his supper. He'd put together a strata, layers of spinach and cheese and bread all soaked in egg, which would be easy to bake tonight. There was plenty for two, if Sam did come, and if not Remus was quite happy to eat the leftovers for another night or two.

The hot bath and then a long nap left Remus fairly well recovered, although he was glad that he could take things easy. The question of Teddy and his evident emotions still troubled him. He brought the parchment with his lesson notes out, un-enchanted it, and began to doodle at the bottom of the page, trying to think of a way to move past this.

It wasn't just Teddy, either. He had to admit that. Yes, Remus was happy with Sam, more than he'd been with any lover in a very long time, since Sirius, in fact, and he was glad that the feeling seemed to be mutual. Nevertheless a willing and enthusiastic young man was a real temptation--the worse for being Remus's own son. He'd overcome the taboo enough to teach Teddy; it should be no surprise that he might want more, and still less that _Teddy_ would.

He would have to get over the feelings that arose in him each time he remembered kissing his son. He snorted at this thought. Easier said than done, that was.

Perhaps if he could ensure that Teddy would focus on the essence of each future lesson, they could avoid it... but no, no, he'd been so intent on making sure that Teddy built upon what he had learned so far that he couldn't abandon kissing altogether.

Nor did he want to. _Dammit_.

Remus was jolted from his thoughts by the sound of the front door opening. A day or two before the moon, he'd have heard the key turning in the lock, but now he was tired and his senses were dulled. Quickly he spelled the parchment back to its disguised form and slipped it back into his desk drawer as Sam called out from the front hall.

"Remus?"

"In here," Remus replied, rising from his chair, his bones creaking.

Sam was at his side in a moment, embracing him with gentle strength, kissing his jaw. "Missed you," he said. "How was last night?"

Remus shook his head and kissed Sam's lips as if that would override what he'd done with Teddy. "The same," he said. "The same as ever. I'm glad you're here."

If Sam noticed that Remus's kisses were greater in number than usual, especially with Remus exhausted after the moon, he said nothing. They chatted amiably over dinner, two helpings each of the strata Remus had set to bake, and afterward Remus asked if Sam would like to spend the night.

"I'll have to leave early in the morning," Sam said, "but yes. I'd like that."

"I have to disclose, though, that I won't be up for anything physical tonight," Remus said, and he put the last bite of strata in his mouth.

"Lucky for you, then," said Sam, "I'm not just in this for the physical aspect."

Remus smiled around his mouthful. They cleared the table together, leaving the dishes for the morning, and played a game of Wizard chess and argued about Winkus Oddpick's op-ed piece in that day's _Prophet_ before Remus began to yawn and his eyelids began to droop.

"Bedtime, I'm afraid," he said, and he let himself lean on Sam as they climbed the stairs together.

"Oh," Sam said as they undressed for bed, "I meant to ask--how's Teddy?"

"He's," Remus paused to toss his socks in the hamper, "he's fine, as far as I know. He was over on Sunday to visit, but you know boys of that age; they don't talk about their lives all that much. I guess he's settling into a bit of a routine, though, as he said he'd been to the Leaky with a few friends on Saturday."

All of which was true enough, although misleading. Remus didn't look at Sam as he spoke. "Be right back, I need to clean my teeth," he said.

"So do I," said Sam cheerfully, and went with Remus to the bathroom. "I'm glad to hear that Teddy doesn't seem to be too upset with you about me." His voice was slightly muffled by the toothbrush. "I was a bit worried that after he'd thought about it longer, he might be, even if he's fancied a bloke or two himself. It's not the same when it's your own dad."

"No, it isn't." Remus cleared his throat. "But he does seem all right with the idea that I'm queer, at least, and as far as I can tell he likes you... even if maybe he'd rather have his dad all his, so to speak, he's old enough to realise that that isn't possible. He'll go off and have his own life, and he knows I'll have mine."

Sam put his toothbrush back in the rack and slipped an arm around Remus's waist. "Good to hear." He smelled of mint and soap, and Remus turned and held him tight for a moment.

"Thank you for asking," he murmured.

"I care about you, you know that, which means that now that your son knows about us, I want to get along with him too." Sam's shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. "If--Merlin forbid--I'd ever had any children, you'd do the same."

"Why are you so glad you didn't have a child?" Remus asked when they had climbed into bed, and he'd made his usual desultory protest at the way Sam put his cold feet next to Remus's warm ones. "The work you do, both teaching voice lessons and the charity work--I'd think you'd make quite a good parent, actually."

Sam chuckled. "I'm good with kids in small doses, mostly," he said, "especially the younger ones. There are days when I don't think I can stand to hear Priscilla Creevey sing another note, for example, but her mother brings her in all the same, then little Prissy gets upset and wets her pants and she's taken home. I don't have to clean it up. Teddy, on the other hand--well, he's technically an adult, isn't he? Teddy, I like."

Remus mm-ed, pushing Sam's feet away again. "I'm glad," he said, "though I have to tell you, he did wet his pants as a small boy." He laughed, and so did Sam.

"They all do!" Sam exclaimed. "Not to mention heaps of other things I don't think I'd have the patience to deal with constantly. I may have had my share of young witches claiming they were pregnant with my kid during my day, but thank god that's all over."

They had talked extensively on that topic before. Sam had been slapped with nearly a dozen paternity suits in a year's time, none of which, after extensive spellwork by specialists at St. Mungo's, had been proven valid.

"Except Angela Singer," Sam had recalled with a sigh. "We were close since we were kids. Neighbours. Good friends. Hers might have been the only one that was actually mine. If it had ever got to be born. And then--" He'd waved his hand as if to wave away the memory. Remus knew what came next; he remembered the headlines in all the papers when the entire Singer family had been killed by Death Eaters, the photo of the Dark Mark floating over their house, green and sinister.

Remus had merely put a hand over Sam's, then, and the two of them had sat in silence until the moment had passed.

Remus wondered sometimes if Sam ever thought about the kid that might have been, but he never asked. And he had wondered whether Sam's protests were always genuine--he suspected they were, mostly, but sometimes he wasn't sure. Sam was awfully good at covering his feelings sometimes.

But Remus put the what-ifs out of his mind as Sam let out a contented sigh. And as the waning moon peered in the window, he drew Sam closer, holding him as they fell asleep together.

"Damn," Sam swore in the morning, sipping hastily at a too-hot cup of tea and glancing at the clock. "I'm late. Board meeting breakfast--I'll never understand why we have to meet at these hours. Lunch would be far more civilised." He stood up, leaving the half-drunk tea, and gave Remus a buss on the lips. "I'd much rather have breakfast with you. It's nice not to eat alone, I will say, but trying to work over breakfast is worse."

"You told me last night you had to leave early. It's fine." Remus caught Sam's hand and squeezed it for an instant. "You can come back tonight, or later this week if you're too busy. I do have to work on Saturday, since I took yesterday off, but we could go have a nice dinner Saturday evening, perhaps?"

"That would be good." Sam was shrugging into his coat. "I'll owl you later, or come by this evening, for a bit anyhow. See you then!" And with that, he was gone.

Remus finished his own tea and munched on a piece of toast spread with plenty of sweet butter and blackcurrant jam. Things were definitely becoming serious with Sam; he might not have given Remus a key to his flat yet, but he seemed very comfortable with the idea of simply dropping by. Which was good, very good, although it was going to complicate the last several lessons with Teddy.

He pondered the possibilities. Despite the potential for emotional trouble after their last lesson, Remus was unwilling to renege on his promise and stop the lessons altogether. He'd indicated to Sam that Teddy was reasonably comfortable with the idea of Sam and Remus being together... but perhaps he could put the notion out that the three of them could spend a Saturday doing something--watching a Quidditch match perhaps--and then he would spend the Sunday just with Teddy? Remus nodded to himself. That might be a good way to manage it, if Sam didn't happen to be conveniently away one of the next several weekends.

As long as Sam was all right with going out with Remus and Teddy in public. Well, it shouldn't be a problem; Sam and Remus had had dinners out together more than once, without feeling they were being too indiscreet. It was one thing not to parade one's relationships in public, but another to live in fear.

The day dragged by, full of the usual minutiae--restocking shelves, assisting customers to find the books they wanted, manning the till. Remus was still a little stiff and sore from Monday, but he ignored it as best he could, looking forward to seeing Sam that night. He spotted Teddy hurrying past in the street at lunchtime, talking with another young man, and smiled to himself.

It was probably nothing at all, but the sight reassured Remus. Talking was something, at least--and quite often _something_ led to, well, something _else_. And Teddy's hair had been a happy bright turquoise, which fanned the flame of hope in Remus's heart.

That evening, he sent out two owls: one to Sam, and the other to Teddy. He had seen in the paper that there would be an exhibition Quidditch game between the Holyhead Harpies and the Pride of Portree; it might have been too late to get tickets but for the fortunate acquaintance between Remus and Catriona McCormack, a regular shopper at Flourish and Blotts, who was in at least once a week.

He knew that her daughter Meghan was--or had been, how long had it been now? three years, so probably still was--the Keeper for the Prides, and that her son Kirley had taken guitar lessons from Sam several years ago, so it would be easy to strike up a conversation the next time he saw her and attempt to get a few tickets.

Yes, that would be perfect, Remus reflected as he straightened up the kitchen after his supper that evening. Perhaps a bit odd--but to the world they would just be old friends out to see a match on a blustery day. Quite manly, really, taking one's son to see a Quidditch game in November. Remus smiled to himself.

Catriona produced three tickets with delight at Remus's interest in watching her daughter play. Remus was pleased when both Teddy and Sam accepted the invitation--Teddy almost immediately, by return owl--and he fell asleep easily that night, dreaming the dreams of a man with nothing to trouble him.

Saturday dawned bright and cold. Remus was up with the sun and was sipping tea in the kitchen when Sam showed up. A light snow had fallen during the night, and Sam kicked his boots off at the kitchen door, grinning.

"I love this," he declared. Remus quirked an eyebrow.

"This is precisely why you're on top more often," he declared, and this set Sam to laughing. Remus chuckled and made Sam a cup of tea. Well, it was _true_. The older Remus got, the less use he had for blustery days and snow and rain--he swore his blood got thinner with each passing year. And his blood might be warm, but that just meant that he felt the cold more. It might not have been terribly masculine, but he preferred his jumpers and firesides and cups of hot English Breakfast.

"When's Teddy coming? The match starts at nine o'clock, right?" Sam asked.

"He should be here at any moment." Remus glanced at the clock. "We've plenty of time, though. I thought we'd just Apparate there; it's quickest."

Sam nodded and sipped at his tea. They sat in comfortable companionship for ten or fifteen minutes, drinking their tea and making intermittent conversation as they waited for Teddy.

Remus was starting to wonder where his son was when Teddy banged in, his face glowing with cold and hair an electric blue under the woolly cap he had on. "Hey, Dad, Sam," he said cheerfully. "I stopped and picked up some pastries to take with us."

"Let me guess, they're all full of jam and cream." Remus grinned, knowing Teddy's sweet tooth.

Teddy laughed. "Well, mostly, but not all. I'm ready whenever you two are."

"Give me a couple of minutes, Ted; I need to find my purple jumper and use the loo first." Remus collected the teacups and carried them over to the sink, then hurried upstairs to rummage through his drawers for the jumper in question, which was the warmest one he owned, perfect for watching Quidditch in November. He had finished using the toilet and was washing his hands when he realised that Sam was standing in the doorway, watching him. He'd put on his shoes again, and was wearing a very smart black cloak.

"What?"

"Nothing. Just wanted to make sure you'd found the jumper, or see if I could help." Sam came up behind Remus and slid his hands up underneath the purple wool. "But I see my help's not necessary." He kissed the nape of Remus's neck, and Remus leaned into the embrace.

"Help, maybe not, but you can keep doing that," he murmured.

Sam kissed him again. "If I do, Teddy will be woefully disappointed at missing the match."

"True. We'd better go, then."

Teddy was indeed practically dancing with impatience when they got back downstairs. "Here's your cloak, Dad," he said, holding it out. "Come _on_!"

Remus shrugged his cloak on, laughing, and wound his scarf around his neck. They all Apparated separately, ending up just outside the stands, and made their way through the crowd. Sam clasped Remus's hand in his for a moment in the middle of the crowd where no one could see, and Remus's heart beat a little faster. They met Catriona at their seats, and Remus made introductions all around--Sam remembered her bringing Kirley in for lessons; he had been a particular talent--and the four of them settled in as the match began, chatting amongst themselves.

The match was an exciting one--Portree won, 350 to 310--and afterwards, Catriona's daughter Meghan, glowing with sweat in the afternoon sun, invited them all to the victory celebration at a pub that Remus had seen but had never been inside. Bacchus, it was called, and it was more a place for young people, he thought.

Remus and Sam begged off, but Teddy seemed to be considering the prospect.

"Go," Remus insisted. "How often do you get to spend time with professional Quidditch players?"

Teddy went, after some deliberation and a promise to come over for breakfast the next morning. He hugged Remus goodbye, then turned to Sam and hesitated. After a moment, he stuck out his hand, which Sam shook, grinning. And then Teddy was gone, swept up by the crowd.

Sam bent to murmur in Remus's ear. "Are you hoping he'll meet someone?"

Remus nodded. "Were my motives that transparent?"

"Not to Teddy, I don't think," Sam said, "and maybe he will. Meet someone, that is. You never know."

Remus certainly hoped so.

They said their goodbyes to Catriona, thanking her again for the tickets, and wandered through Holyhead together, distancing themselves from the dispersing Quidditch crowd. The wind had picked up--not surprising on an island, Remus supposed--and he shivered even with all he was wearing. Sitting still in the stands had chilled him.

"Tea?" he suggested when he saw a teashop. "It's a bit early for dinner, I suppose."

"Sounds good. Although I want to take you to dinner later," said Sam. "I have a special place in mind in Edinburgh; I made a reservation for three, but it shouldn't be a problem to turn up with just two people. If you don't mind some extra Apparating?"

"Not at all, and I'd love to," said Remus.

They ordered a pot of Earl Grey to share, which was Sam's favourite and Remus didn't mind it once in a while, and sat drinking slowly and discussing the finer points of the match. Meghan had struggled a bit that day, allowing more goals than she usually did, according to Catriona, but the rest of the team had done reasonably well and Portree's Seeker had saved the match for them.

Dusk had set in by the time they emerged.

"We could go to Edinburgh now, do a bit of wandering before dinner," said Sam. "The reservation isn't for nearly two hours."

Remus had never spent any time to speak of in the city, and enjoyed walking through its older streets, full of grey stone buildings. "Where are we eating?" he asked presently.

"It's called the Witchery." Sam grinned. "It's here in the old town, very near the gates of Edinburgh Castle, and has absolutely wonderful food. I've had a starter of grilled mixed wild mushrooms that was amazing; it's not exactly the season for those now, but I'm sure there will be other choices."

"Sounds delicious." Remus's mouth watered. The snacks they'd eaten at the Quidditch stadium seemed a very long time ago, especially after walking up and down the hilly and windy streets.

Remus was surprised to find, when they arrived, that the Witchery was actually a Muggle restaurant, but he played along, making sure his wand was stowed safely away. It was so much easier to pass for Muggles in cold weather, with jumpers and scarves and even cloaks being common to both Muggles and Wizards.

The prices were beyond what Remus was usually comfortable paying for a meal, but Sam had made the reservation and would, Remus knew, insist upon paying. He never worried about money, and Remus had learned to relax a bit around him when it came to financial matters.

They began with a dozen oysters--Sam's choice. Remus enjoyed them, to his delighted surprise--he'd had the chance to sample them before, but had never quite worked up the nerve.

Over dinner--braised oxtail for Sam, leg of rabbit for Remus--they fell into conversation about Teddy.

"Will it be odd for you if he meets a bloke?" Sam asked, his voice low.

Remus frowned. It would, actually. Not difficult, he thought, but odd, definitely. He pictured Teddy at the Quidditch celebration, his face pink with excitement and alcohol, shouting and laughing with members of the Prides and their supporters. Surely there would be a bloke or two there who weren't averse to the idea of taking a good-looking boy like Teddy home for the night.

His frown turned to a scowl, and he tapped his fork on the rim of his plate. "Yes," he said, not looking at Sam, "but it's for the best." He shrugged.

Sam reached across the table and touched Remus's shoulder. "Don't pacify yourself with platitudes like that," he said.

Remus sighed. "No, you're right." He looked up and took a breath to speak, but found he couldn't. Dammit. They'd had a nearly perfect day, capped with a delightful dinner, and now thoughts of Teddy-- _inappropriate_ thoughts of Teddy--had interrupted. Remus couldn't help picturing Teddy's pink lips wrapped around the cock of a stranger from the pub, the stranger's dirty fingernails clutching Teddy's electric blue hair, urging him on.

"He _is_ a good kid," said Sam, "with a great dad. And, if I may say so, one who has good taste in men himself; so if Teddy does end up with someone tonight, I expect he's learned from you the kind of bloke to choose."

The creamed spinach that had come with his rabbit suddenly tasted like ashes in Remus's mouth, and he choked. But there was no way that Sam could possibly know about Teddy's lessons. He was reading too much into a casual comment.

"Er, thanks," he finally said after a good deal of coughing and sputtering and sipping at his glass of water. This was ridiculous. He'd been concerned that _Teddy_ was becoming attached to him in an unsuitable way, but apparently the apple didn't fall far from the tree. He couldn't be jealous of his own son. He refused to be. Deliberately he turned his mind away from images of Teddy on his knees and reached for Sam's hand. "I'm flattered you think so."

"'Course I do." Sam's voice was low, his eyes bright. "Remus, you're the best thing that's happened to me in a long time."

The bare statement made Remus's heart turn over. He felt a fool for even thinking of Teddy that way when Sam was here, and Sam was who he really wanted. "You, too."

"Come to my place tonight?" Sam asked.

The waiter came to the table before Remus could answer, inquiring whether they wished to have any dessert, or coffee, or perhaps port or brandy to round out the meal. Sam chose a dark chocolate torte and coffee. Remus declined any sweets, but opted for a glass of fifteen-year-old port, and was pleasantly surprised when he was served a single chocolate truffle as well.

"Teddy's coming over to my house for breakfast tomorrow," Remus said when they were alone again, "but I can't imagine he'll be there before ten."

Sam nodded. "I promise to kick you out of bed in plenty of time to get home for that." His eyes were twinkling, and Remus chuckled.

"Done, then."

As he had expected, Sam wouldn't even let Remus look at the bill when it was presented. He had a Muggle credit card, and when he'd signed the receipt and they both rose, he took Remus's hand. "I'll Side-Along us once we're out of sight," he murmured.

There were few things Remus disliked more than the sensation that went along with Side-Along Apparition, but he had only Apparated to Sam's flat a scant handful of times, and from so far away, and after the wine they'd had at dinner and the port afterwards, perhaps Side-Along was the best choice after all. Remus closed his eyes and tried to remember to breathe as they disappeared from the alley behind the restaurant. He concentrated on Sam's arm, so sure and strong about his waist, and in a moment they were in the lavish hallway outside Sam's flat.

Remus broke away, leaning against the wall, and wiped the sweat from his brow. Sam touched him lightly on the shoulder as if to steady him, then let them both into the flat.

Once they were inside, Remus moved to the kitchen and filled a glass with water, downing it all at once. Better. He set the glass in the sink and smiled at Sam.

"All right?" Sam asked, and Remus nodded.

"I just always get a bit lightheaded from Side-Along Apparition," he said, a little embarrassed. Sam smoothed Remus's hair back and kissed his temple.

"When you're feeling better," he murmured against Remus's skin, "shall we go into the bedroom?"

Remus put his arms around Sam. "Do you really think I can refuse an offer like that?"

Sam grinned and kissed Remus's temple again. "I certainly hope not." He kissed Remus's mouth, then, and Remus hummed a little as Sam's tongue licked along the seam of his lips. He opened his mouth, letting Sam's probing tongue in, sighing into their kiss. He was getting hard already, and Sam's kisses had certainly helped him to recover from the Apparition.

Sam walked Remus backwards into the bedroom, tugging at the front of his trousers all the while. Remus tried to reciprocate, but Sam pushed him gently onto the bed and knelt between his legs, unzipping his trousers and shoving them down.

"Just let me--" he said, and he reached into Remus's pants.

Remus murmured in his throat as first the cool air, then the wet warmth of Sam's mouth closed around his cock. With double vision he saw Teddy in exactly the same pose, and swallowed, caressing Sam's hair to bring himself back to the welcome reality of the present. Sam licked along the length from base to tip, flickering his tongue in the slit, making Remus gasp.

Sam shifted, settling himself more comfortably, resting his arms on Remus's thighs, from which he used one hand to tease Remus's bollocks and the other to slide under his jumper and toy with the hair on his chest.

" _Oh_ ," Remus groaned when Sam sucked hard for a moment and then relaxed his throat to let Remus's prick slip almost all the way into his mouth. "Oh, _fuck_ , that's good."

With his mouth too occupied to reply, Sam merely rubbed Remus's belly in a gentle circle.

The tender insistence of Sam's fondling caresses had Remus on the verge of coming far sooner than he wanted; this was no night for a quick tumble, not after such a day and evening. He touched Sam's cheek. "Not yet, please?"

Sam let go of him with a little pop of suction, and looked up, his eyes dilated. "No?"

"I want you in me," Remus requested.

"All right, but I want to rim you beforehand," Sam said, nuzzling along the crease of Remus's thigh. It tickled, and Remus laughed.

"You think I'll say no to that?"

"Nope." Sam grinned. "Maybe we should both finish taking off our clothes first, though." He suited actions to words, standing up and quickly unbuttoning and unzipping until he stood naked, his cock curving up hard and red and eager.

Remus shoved his own clothes to the floor as well, and knelt, resting his head on his folded arms, his arse raised for Sam's delectation. Sam pressed a long trail of kisses down Remus's back, then spread Remus's cheeks apart and murmured a cleaning charm before taking a long, loving taste.

" _Ohh_ ," Remus moaned, and he spread his legs wider as Sam's tongue teased around his entrance, swirling and lapping over the puckered hole. Remus could feel himself relaxing, growing looser, as Sam pointed his tongue and began to spear it into him. Sam always made greedy little panting noises when he rimmed Remus, and this time was no exception. The noises turned Remus on fiercely; he gave answering moans and murmured Sam's name in encouragement.

Sam pressed a suckling kiss to Remus's hole, then blew hot breath across it. A convulsive shiver made its way down Remus's spine at the new sensation, the breath of air.

"Not done with you yet," Sam murmured against Remus's hole as Remus shifted on the bed.

Remus groaned.

"What, do you like that, when I talk with my mouth full of you?"

Remus _whimpered_.

" _Yes_ ," he hissed, and he grabbed his rock-hard prick, squeezing at the base of it, afraid he would come before Sam had filled him.

"Love to lick you," Sam murmured between licks of Remus's arsehole, "Love to eat your arse, suck your hole, fuck you with my tongue." His words fell off into indistinct mumblings as he pressed his mouth even closer to Remus, his lips surrounding Remus's hole, his tongue spearing him wide open.

Remus cried out wordlessly, still squeezing his cock to stave off his impending orgasm. "Sam, _Sam_ ," he chanted as Sam filled his entrance with his eager tongue, then withdrew, licking wide stripes over Remus's stretched hole.

"Love this," Sam declared, and he licked again, again. "Love your arse so fucking much."

"God, _Sam_ , please," Remus begged, and after one final lick, he felt Sam move, kneeling up and positioning the head of his cock right at Remus's entrance.

"Love _you_ so much," Sam said just as he pushed in, his fingers digging into Remus's hips.

Remus came with a howl, prick throbbing in his hand, arse clenching tight around Sam's cock as he shook with the force of it. "Sam," he gasped. "Oh Sam. I love you too."

Sam's mouth came down to bite and suck at Remus's neck as Remus reared back to meet him. He thrust fiercely, possessively, holding Remus tight. Remus could only acquiesce to the sudden demand, letting Sam take him hard, loving the way that Sam showed his desire.

It wasn't long before Sam too found his release in Remus's body. Still holding Remus in a firm embrace, Sam rolled them both over so that they spooned together on the bed.

"I meant that," Sam murmured, his breath hot against Remus's ear. "It wasn't just the heat of passion talking, or anything."

"I know. So did I," Remus replied. He took Sam's hand and brought it to his lips, then pressed it against his heart. "It's not something I've said in a long time." _Except to Teddy_ , his conscience nagged him. _But that's different_ , he retorted silently. _Son, not lover._

Sam let out a shuddering sigh and hugged Remus closer. "Me, either. I didn't expect to feel like this toward you, you know. Not because you're a werewolf--if that bothered me, I'd have never asked you out in the first place--but because we lead such different kinds of lives."

"I'm pretty ordinary, it's true," said Remus ruefully. "Single father who works in a bookshop. Whereas you're an ex-rock star who spends half his time teaching talented music students and the other half popping 'round the globe doing brilliant work for charity."

"Yes, more or less," Sam admitted. "But when I'm around you--I feel more _me_. And I like that. It's a feeling I very much want to hold on to, and it doesn't matter to me what you do for a living or what anyone else might think, not really."

"Well, I'm very fond of _you_ ," said Remus, "so I'm really pleased you said that. I may have had a crush on Stubby Boardman, but--" He paused, smiling a little, then blurted, "but I'm in love with Sam. With you."

Sam punched him playfully, then hugged him again. They lay together in silence for several minutes, and Remus felt his eyelids begin to droop. Sam gave a great yawn, then squeezed one of Remus's arsecheeks.

"Let's get clean," he said through another yawn, "and then let's sleep."

Remus thought that this was a capital idea, though he groaned when Sam peeled his body away and stood up. He dragged himself to his feet and pulled on his pants and vest, then joined Sam in the bathroom, where he was brushing his teeth, wearing a garishly polka-dotted dressing gown that Sam had been given by his mother and never worn, so he'd lent it to Remus.

"You know," Sam said, spitting into the sink and taking in Remus's outfit, "maybe you should buy a new dressing gown."

"I _have_ a new one," Remus pointed out. "Teddy gave it to me last Christmas. The plaid one. You've seen it."

Sam leaned against the counter, watching Remus brush his teeth. "No," he said, folding his arms over his chest, his expression deadpan. "I mean one to keep here."

Remus paused a moment, eyeing Sam's reflection in the mirror.

"I mean, you already keep a toothbrush here," Sam continued.

Remus spat into the basin. "I don't 'keep it here'," he countered. "You just happened to have an extra one the first time that I spent the night, and said it was mine to use." He pointed the brush at Sam before placing it back in the holder and rinsing his mouth.

Sam embraced him from behind, burying his face in Remus's neck. "Maybe next time I'll just have to have a more attractive extra dressing gown lying around, then," he said.

"Maybe." Remus caught himself smiling and turned around in the embrace. Sam kissed him, pressing him back against the sink.

And Remus closed his eyes and let himself drift in the moment. Though they had been fairly serious about each other for a while, to the point of not seeing other people in a romantic context, neither man had ever told the other he loved him. And while Remus didn't necessarily want to move in together with Sam--not yet, anyway, though he wasn't entirely opposed to the idea of it, sometime in the future, depending on conditions--he knew that the gesture of the dressing gown was Sam's response to being given the key to Remus's house.

In the morning Remus had a cup of tea with Sam before going home, leaving Sam on his sofa with the morning _Prophet_. They'd agreed that Sam would come to Remus's house on Monday night, but Sam seemed to understand that it would be best to let Teddy have some time alone with his father--"If he didn't find someone else to spend Sunday with and not show up at all," Sam said with a grin. "Just kidding; I'm sure he'd at least let you know, one way or another."

Remus agreed with that. Teddy might be late occasionally, but he knew better than not to be where he'd said he would be, not without notice. And, indeed, Remus was frying sausages and mushrooms and eggs when Teddy walked in.

"How was your evening with the Quidditch players?" Remus asked.

Teddy's eyes shone. "Brilliant. Not that I could ever be one of them, but it was a lot of fun to hear them rehash their past games, argue about how they could have played better in certain situations, that sort of thing. A couple of the reserve team members are only a year or two older than I am, too, so we talked about what it's like to leave school and not know for sure what you're going to do; Andrew worked at the Owl Post for a year before he was picked up for the Portree team."

 _Andrew, eh?_ Remus divided the food and carried the plates to the table. "I'm glad you had a good time. So did I."

"I suppose you and Sam did something after the match too?" Teddy swallowed a mushroom and looked around. "He didn't stay overnight, did he?"

"No, we had a nice dinner and then I stayed at his flat, actually. He knew that you were coming over for breakfast so I left early." Remus cut off a piece of sausage. "But I got plenty of sleep and I hope you did too."

"Enough." Teddy turned pink. "I was out rather late, but I'll be fine."

Remus wondered if Teddy had just been out late drinking, or if he'd been doing anything else. He rather hoped that it had been the latter, but he didn't like to ask and seem too intrusive. "Have you had enough chance to practise those charms I taught you last time?"

Teddy choked on a bite of sausage. He took a moment to recover, hitting himself on the chest and wheezing. He cleared his throat and looked across the table at Remus, who waited patiently for a response.

"Um," he said, his face even pinker after his exertion, "I did. A couple of times."

"Only a couple of times?" Remus put on his sternest professor face. "Do you think you've mastered them after only 'a couple of times'?"

Teddy hung his head a little, poking at the remaining eggs on his plate. "No," he admitted, "probably not."

Remus's imagination went wild. Had Teddy not practised the cleansing charms because he'd been out at least twice this week (twice that Remus knew about, anyway--could there have been more?) with other blokes? And what _had_ Teddy done with those blokes? Whatever it was, apparently it didn't involve cleansing charms--which could either be very good or very bad, depending on the situation.

He decided not to ask, though he ardently wanted to know.

"All right," he said, dabbing his napkin at the corners of his mouth, finished with his breakfast. "We'll practise them some more a little later today, then."

Remus's choice of words had not gone unnoticed by Teddy. "What do you mean, _later_?"

Remus stood, taking his plate to the sink. "I thought we'd take a little trip first, Ted. To London."

"Why?" Teddy scraped the last of his eggs into his mouth as he crossed the kitchen with his plate. Remus gave him a look that clearly said _Finish your breakfast at the table, please_ before he answered.

"There's a shop there that I'd like us to visit together. A Muggle shop. I believe the polite term is an 'adult' shop."

Teddy puzzled over this for the briefest of moments. "You mean a--a _sex shop_?"

Remus coughed. "Yes. A Muggle one, where no one will know us. Still, though, I'd like it if you could change your appearance a bit--we do look rather alike, after all." He paused, regarding his son. "The shop is called Prowler--which is, I'll admit, a ridiculous name, but it has what we'll be looking for."

"What's that?" Teddy shoved his hands in his jeans pockets and leaned back against the counter.

"Hand me the frying pan," Remus told him as he started to wash up. "Well, the next lesson is toys. Not today's, but the one after. I wanted to buy you a few things. Generally it's not a good idea to share toys, or at least, you want to be very careful about it and clean them well."

Teddy's eyes went wide. "What are you going to buy for me?"

"A set of plugs. Perhaps one or two other things. And of course, you're free to buy whatever you like for yourself as well." Remus put the last dish in the rack and reached for the towel to dry his hands.

"P-plugs?" Teddy stammered. "You mean, like for my arse?"

"That's exactly it. They come in various sizes." Unconsciously, Remus licked his lips. "So grab your jacket, change your appearance, and let's go."

"Yes!" Teddy concentrated, and his cheekbones became more prominent, his nose a little wider. His hair remained blue, but then, Remus had seen plenty of Muggle boys Teddy's age with blue hair, and the changed face was enough that he didn't resemble Remus any more.

Since it was a Muggle destination, rather than Apparating directly, they first went to King's Cross, then took the Tube to the Piccadilly Circus stop and walked the rest of the way to Prowler.

"It's not like I thought it would be," Teddy whispered to Remus as they went in. "It's all, I don't know, bright and clean."

Remus squeezed Teddy's hand. "Why don't you look around a little bit? See if anything catches your eye."

Teddy moved off, looking very young as he gazed at all of the paraphernalia the shop stocked. Remus reassured himself that he was right there, and nothing could possibly happen to Teddy here in the middle of the day. He found a set of three plugs in graduated sizes that seemed to be pretty close to what he'd hoped for, and looked at several others that were larger... not for Teddy, perhaps, but for himself or maybe Sam.

He considered a vibrating plug, but frowned and put it back when he realised he'd either have to stock up on batteries or keep going into Muggle shops to buy them. He preferred to stay close to home and generally disliked shopping in Muggle stores, so that wouldn't do. He crossed his arms over his chest, still holding the set he'd chosen for Teddy, and was deciding between two plugs, one slightly larger than the other--he thought he'd bring the idea of toys up to Sam, after all--when a voice sounded behind him.

"Remus?"

Remus's heart shot into his throat and his eyes went wide. He spun around, certain he'd been discovered in a sex shop with his _son_. Oh, god, he'd never be able to explain--

And there was Teddy, rocking back on his heels.

Remus scowled. "What do you mean, frightening me like that?" he whispered.

"Well, I didn't want to call you--" Teddy looked around and mouthed the word _Dad_. Remus nodded, his heartbeat slowing, and he patted Teddy's shoulder.

"Sorry--yes. Of course. You just startled me, that's all." He noticed Teddy was clutching something behind his back. "Have you found something for yourself?"

Teddy's cheeks went pink, and the ends of his hair went magenta. He hastily shook his head and his hair turned back to all blue.

"Sorry," he said, smoothing a hand over his hair. "Um, yeah, though. Just a magazine." He didn't offer to show it to Remus, and Remus decided not to ask. Maybe they could look over it together when they got home. But Remus had everything he wanted, and his nerves were a bit jangled, so he proposed they leave, unless Teddy wanted to look at anything else.

Teddy shook his head. "I might want to come back here sometime, though, if that's okay."

Remus smiled as they walked up to the counter together. "Anytime you like--just be careful." He nearly asked if Teddy would be returning with a friend, but he bit his tongue as they paid for their purchases. As an afterthought he added a couple of bottles of lube from a display near the counter; it was a brand he'd used before and found good.

With the parcel discreetly tucked under his arm, Remus considered whether they should go to any other shops while they were out, but decided that they'd probably do best simply going home. They were lucky enough to find seats together on the train--even on a wet November Sunday, the tourists were out in force--and he murmured to Teddy, "Ready for your next lesson?"

Teddy nodded vehemently and took Remus's hand, staring with defiance at a middle-aged man whose mouth was pursed in vinegar disapproval--whether it was of two men holding hands in public, or Teddy's colourful hair, Remus didn't know. He was glad that Teddy was willing to be open about his preference, even if this particular manifestation of it might be inappropriate. No one else could possibly know that, after all, so he squeezed Teddy's hand back and counted the stations as they passed.  



	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus makes a decision that Teddy isn't happy with, and Teddy has a date.

Teddy had carefully clutched his magazine all the way back home--not _home_ anymore, he reminded himself, but his father's house. He wasn't sure if he wanted to show it to Remus or not. Maybe later, after their lesson.

He was definitely looking forward to that, although, as he'd admitted to his father, he wasn't sure he'd really mastered the cleaning charms. He _had_ practised them some, but it was difficult to tell on oneself if they were working properly. So even though he'd also tried them on various other things besides his arse, such as his rather dusty bookcase and the gunge behind the wardrobe, he suspected he didn't quite have the hang of it.

Remus peeled off his coat and hung it up. Teddy did the same.

"Ready?" Remus asked, and Teddy nodded enthusiastically, following him upstairs.

"I suppose I might as well show you your gifts first," said Remus as he sat down on the bed. "Come here."

Teddy sat next to his father, and Remus put one arm around him.

"You seemed particularly interested in penetration, Ted, so I thought these would be good for you to have." He pulled out three plugs in different sizes, just as he'd said he was going to buy. They were smooth and white and had wide bases, then a narrow bit, then widened again and tapered down to the tip. Not only the widths were different, but the lengths too, the largest looking about the size of Teddy's own cock.

Teddy's eyes widened. "Oh, _wow_." He'd known, of course, what his father had been buying for him, but the reality of _those_ belonging to _him_ was seriously _intense_. For once, he wasn't going to mind going home at the end of the lesson, not if he could play with those when he got there.

He reached for the package, taking out his wand. "Can I open it?"

Remus nodded. "Of course. Take them out, feel them. Tell me what you think." Teddy sliced open the plastic of the package with a spell and stowed his wand back in his pocket, then took out the smallest of the plugs. He held the base in his hand and ran his fingers over its length, then formed a circle with his index finger and thumb and pushed the plug through it.

"Oh," he breathed as it popped through the circle. "Yes." He turned his face up to his father's and was instantly hit with a wave of desire, wanting badly to kiss Remus's gentle mouth. He stopped himself, however, sensing that he would do better to wait.

"Thanks, Dad," he said, and he pressed his face to the warm wool of Remus's jumper, inhaling. "These are brilliant," he added, his voice muffled.

"You'll be wanting this, too," Remus said, and he nudged something towards Teddy--a bottle of lubricant. Teddy nodded mutely and took it.

"It's absolutely essential that you use lubricant, and plenty of it, for any kind of anal penetration," said Remus, as Teddy stared at the bottle in his hand. "That includes both when you're playing by yourself, and when you're with a partner." Had Teddy imagined it, or had his father's voice quaked very slightly on that last word?

"I will," he promised, and he raised his head to look at his father once again. "Dad, seriously--thanks for taking me to that shop, and for buying me all this--I just--" Teddy didn't know exactly how to thank his father for everything he'd done so far, as well as everything they were still going to do. He loved Remus so much. He flashed back to the moment on the bus when he'd taken his father's hand and Remus had actually squeezed _back_. He'd grown stiff in his pants when that happened, but he wouldn't tell his father. The squeeze had been enough.

"I just--thank you--" he continued, and Remus hugged him.

"I know," he said, "I understand. It's all right." Remus took a visible deep breath. "But I do want to remind you, once again--and I'm not trying to accuse you of anything--that I'm only teaching you. Okay? If you go out with friends to a pub or somewhere, and it happens that you get together with someone, that's _good_. That's _why_ I'm teaching you, so that you have the confidence and abilities you need to be with someone and not be worried about it, and not get yourself into a situation you can't handle. So I'm not asking if you shagged anyone last night, or even just snogged someone--it's not my business, unless you want to tell me--but I'm saying that if you did, I'm happy for you."

Teddy felt his face heat up. He _had_ actually done some snogging, and in fact groping, with the reserve Chaser, Andrew, and it had been satisfying enough that Andrew had asked to make sure he had Teddy's surname right, so that he could send an owl sometime. Had he been as obvious as all that? "Okay, Dad," he said. "I understand."

"As long as we're both on the same page about this, then that's fine." Remus kissed Teddy's cheek. "Did you have any questions about the plugs, before we get on to the lesson? We'll be doing toys next time, so you should bring them back here then, but take them home and try them out meanwhile."

"I guess I should start with the smallest one and kind of work my way up, right?"

"That's the idea. As I said, lots of lubricant, especially as you try the larger ones." Remus's cheeks were pink. "Not all men like plugs, but I do, so I suppose it's not unlikely you will. If you don't once you try them, however, there's nothing wrong with that either. Or if you prefer small plugs."

"Do you like the large ones?" Teddy blurted out.

"Yes... especially at certain times." Remus seemed to hesitate. "Here, I'll show you one that I bought for me."

He pulled it out of the bag and handed it to Teddy. This plug was black, not white, and considerably larger than even the largest of Teddy's set. Teddy imagined Remus's arse stretching to accommodate it, and his cock twitched at the thought. If his father liked something so big, though, would he be fulfilled by being fucked by a regular bloke's prick? Teddy was hoping that in the final lesson he'd get to top as well as bottom, but he'd be embarrassed if he wasn't able to satisfy Remus. He swallowed hard, running his fingers along the firm surface. "Wow."

"It's just a toy, remember. The real thing is nearly always preferable." Remus smiled as he took the plug back and put it away, and Teddy felt a little better. Remus stroked Teddy's fringe back from his forehead.

"Just a toy," Teddy repeated, "yeah. I understand." He was torn, remembering Andrew's mouth and hands from the night before in a dark corner in Bacchus, and simultaneously breathing in the impossible wonderment of his father, wool and sweat and love, so close and so accessible.

"So," Teddy continued, clearing his throat, "We're starting on bits of the real thing today, yeah?" He had long been awaiting this lesson--from the first time he'd seen Remus's tongue buried in Sam's arse, honestly, before the lessons had even been dreamed up--and they'd done so much already that day that Teddy might not have been surprised to hear the lesson wouldn't be happening, despite Remus's promises.

"Has nothing yet been real to you?" Remus asked, his voice suddenly cold, his hand no longer moving along Teddy's hairline. Teddy flushed. _Dammit_. Yes, he'd fucked up now, all right.

"No--Dad--that's--I didn't mean that," he stammered. "I meant what you were talking about before. You know--penetration. Of a sort." He felt his cheeks go a bit pink.

He felt Remus relax a little. "I know," he said, "you've been anticipating this, Ted, haven't you?" Remus's hand began moving again.

Teddy nodded, his head moving under his father's hand. He'd learned by now, of course, that there was far more to sex than he had ever imagined, but penetration still loomed large in his mind, and he craved it. His father's tongue would soon be inside his arse, if he played everything correctly, and Teddy's cock twitched in his pants at the thought.

"Dad? Are--can we start the lesson now?"

Teddy could have sworn Remus let out a little sigh. "Of course. Let's get undressed."

Teddy skinned out of his clothes rapidly. His cock was already hard, both from remembering last night and from looking forward to the lesson, and he gave it a quick fondle as he pulled his pants off. Remus had only taken his shoes off and unbuttoned his shirt by the time Teddy was naked.

"There's no rush," Remus reminded him, and Teddy nodded, trying to control his impatience. He sat cross-legged on the bed and watched as Remus finished undressing. His father's body was a little soft around the waist, and the grey hairs and scars showed his age and the effects of his lycanthropy, but Teddy thought he was pretty amazingly sexy nevertheless. He could see why Sam was interested--Teddy felt the same way, even though he knew he shouldn't.

Remus's prick was still flaccid, worrying Teddy that his father didn't want to do this, even though he'd said they would. He stood up again just as Remus was finishing, and went to put his arms around him, running his hands along Remus's back and arse and pressing kisses along his shoulder. Remus hugged Teddy back.

"What's all this?"

"To thank you," muttered Teddy against Remus's neck. "I'm really glad you're doing this for me. I know you're not entirely happy about it."

His chin was taken in Remus's fingers and he was made to look up. "Ted. If I were entirely reluctant, I wouldn't have agreed at all. But you're right, I'm not completely sure if it's the right thing to do, or if I'm teaching you in the best way; and sometimes it's hard for me to remember that you're young and it's mostly new to you, and that I shouldn't expect too much all at once."

Teddy gave Remus a slightly wobbly smile. "Okay." He tilted his head to brush his lips against Remus's, and then Remus's tongue was licking against the seam of his mouth, coaxing it to open, and Remus was walking him backward to the bed and laying him down on it. Heat pooled in Teddy's belly as he felt Remus growing hard against his thigh as they kissed, and he gave himself up to the pleasure of the moment without thinking about what they would do next.

When Remus moved to Teddy's throat, Teddy blinked his eyes open again and touched Remus's hair, stroking it, playing with the short hairs at the nape of his neck and feeling pleased, when Remus made a little sound in the back of his throat, that he'd remembered his father was especially sensitive there.

"Oh, Ted. I could let you do that all day," Remus said after a moment, lifting his head and smiling at Teddy, "but perhaps we should get on with the lesson."

Teddy nodded. "That is absolutely fine with me, Dad." He laughed, a little embarrassed at the eagerness in his voice, and Remus grinned indulgently, scraping his fingernails across one of Teddy's nipples, causing Teddy to shiver and moan.

"All right," Remus said, giving the nipple a final tweak, "Rimming." Teddy's cock twitched. _Ohfuckyes_.

"You may find, Ted, that this isn't something you enjoy--and, as always, that's perfectly all right. But many men--myself included--enjoy it very much, and it can be a wonderfully intimate sharing experience with your partner."

"Okay," Teddy replied, sincerely doubting that he wouldn't enjoy it. After all, he loved touching his own arsehole with a finger while he wanked, and had found out that slipping a finger inside was still more enjoyable; wouldn't another's tongue--his _father's_ tongue, oh god--be a hundred times better?

"Why don't you roll over onto your stomach," Remus proposed. "We'll start with some massage--just a bit of touching and kissing at first. I'll warn you before I'm going to start, ah, doing what we're learning today." How funny that his father had put it that way when he'd said _rimming_ in such a factual tone only moments ago.

Teddy complied with Remus's request, rolling over and pillowing his head on his arms. Immediately he found something he didn't like--up until now, he'd been able to see his father during all their lessons, to watch his body and his face as they touched, as they kissed, as they came.

"Dad?"

"Yes, Ted?" Remus had begun to run his hands over Teddy's skin, long strokes down his back. Teddy shivered as Remus's hands moved lower, cupping his arsecheeks, raising gooseflesh all over. He shivered again and let out a soft moan as Remus's thumb slipped between his arsecheeks, barely skimming over his hole.

"Um... never mind." Maybe this would be okay after all. After all, even if he were on his back, he still wouldn't be able to see Remus, down between his legs, oh god, _licking him_.

"Are you sure?" Remus waited a moment, but when Teddy only murmured assent, he went on, "All right, then. You were practising cleaning charms this past week. I want you to cast one on yourself now. Do you need your wand, or have you mastered it as a wandless spell?"

"I probably need my wand," Teddy was compelled to admit. He _had_ practised some, but his wandless spells were less reliable, and he _really_ didn't want to not be clean for his father.

"Hang on, then. In your pocket?" Teddy felt the mattress shift as Remus got up to fetch Teddy's wand. "Old Mad-eye--he died before you were born, but I know I've mentioned him--used to throw fits if he found out someone kept his wand in his pocket, but I've never had trouble doing it. Here you go."

Remus handed the smooth length of cherry wood to Teddy. He ran his thumb along it, then took a good grip and aimed it at his arse. " _Ablue_ ," he said, careful to pronounce all three syllables correctly. Once he'd slurred it in his hurry; he wasn't sure what he'd said, but the result had been a painful constriction of his arsehole until he'd managed to counter it with a _finite incantatem_.

This time he felt the cool tingle of a successful charm, though. Remus took the wand, setting it aside on the table, and said, "Good job. You'll get another chance later, if you want it."

 _Fuck_ , that sounded like he was going to be allowed to try rimming Remus. If he wanted. He thought he did... but then he stopped thinking very much again, because Remus had resumed kneading Teddy's back, this time trailing wet kisses behind each place that his fingers touched. It all made him very turned on, yet relaxed, so that when Remus paused with his hands splayed over Teddy's cheeks to ask if Teddy was ready, there was no question in Teddy's mind but that he was.

Remus's tongue started at the top of Teddy's crack, wet and warm and moving gradually downward as his fingers continued their gentle massage of Teddy's arse, spreading it wide. Even knowing that his charm had been successful, Teddy tensed a little as Remus came closer to his arsehole, worried that he might pass gas and embarrass himself. When he first felt the flicker of Remus's tongue over the tightness, though, he forgot to worry. It felt like when he'd fingered himself, only better, hotter, more intimate.

He heard himself whimper against the pillow and he spread his legs further open. Remus chuckled softly against him, and the vibration made Teddy quiver and whimper again. And then Remus spread Teddy's cheeks even wider with his hands, and his tongue pressed against Teddy's hole, hot and hard and insistent. He licked wide stripes up and down, and Teddy felt himself relaxing even further under Remus's ministrations, even as his cock, pressed against the bed, grew harder and began to leak precome.

" _Fuck_ ," Teddy spat as Remus tongued a spiral around his arsehole, zeroing in on its very centre. He pushed his arse up, needing to be closer to his father's face and talented tongue, even though it meant there would be no friction against his cock.

Remus stopped for a moment. "Good," he murmured, and he nudged at the backs of Teddy's knees, helping him into a kneeling position with his head and his arms still on the bed. Teddy's cock and balls swung freely as Remus once again spread his arsecheeks and tongued the tight pucker between them, and Teddy began to whimper again--it was all his overloaded brain would let him do.

He squirmed as Remus began to work at his hole with the very tip of his pointed tongue. _Fuck, fuck_ , he was going _inside_. Teddy thought for the briefest of moments about calling a halt to the whole lesson--the sudden intense reality of what they were doing bloomed in his belly, and he gritted his teeth. He should say something--he should squirm away--

" _Dad_ ," Teddy yelped as Remus's tongue breached him. All thoughts of stopping the lesson vanished as Remus's tongue wriggled inside Teddy's hole.

Teddy thought he might collapse. It felt unlike anything he'd even imagined--and he'd imagined _plenty_ in the weeks leading up to this much-anticipated lesson.

"Don't stop, please, _please_ don't stop," Teddy heard himself begging. His head thrashed about and he clenched hard at the pillow with both hands. He knew that if he touched himself, he'd come instantly, and he didn't want this to end so soon.

Remus moaned an unintelligible response around his arsehole and Teddy thrust back against his tongue, babbling. He couldn't bear it--it was too much--and then Remus _sucked_ and Teddy saw stars as he came harder than he thought he'd ever come in his life. He could feel Remus's tongue still inside his hole as it contracted, and then Remus was pulling away, lapping tenderly over the fragile flesh, his hands caressing, soothing Teddy down from his high.

"Sh, sh. You're fine, that was just fine."

Teddy let himself be turned over, then he sat up, reaching blindly for Remus, who held him close.

" _God_ \-- _Dad_ \--that was incredible," Teddy whispered. He couldn't imagine how anything could be better, really. He'd dreamed of being fucked, but this? Was _amazing_.

Remus nuzzled at his cheek. Teddy turned his head to kiss him properly on the mouth, only recalling as their lips met where his father's had just been; but then, that was what the charm had been for, and all he really tasted was saliva and a little muskiness, not bad at all.

His stomach was splattered with come and there were damp spots beneath him on the sheet, but he didn't mind. It was enough to feel his heart slowing, the odd sensation in his arse, the way that Remus quivered a little against him.

"I gather you enjoyed that." Remus's murmur held a laugh. Teddy chuckled in return.

"Just a bit, yeah. Wow. You're really good at that--not that I have anyone to compare you to, but still. Wow," he repeated, snuggling into Remus's chest and smelling the scent of his father's sweat. He slid one hand along Remus's side and thigh, reaching for his hard prick. "I know I'm not going to be anything like that good, but, um, could I try?"

Although he'd been slightly ambivalent about the prospect before, now that he'd experienced rimming, Teddy suddenly was determined to do his best to learn how to do it well. He knew it would probably take practise, but there was no time to start like the present, right? And he wanted to make his father enjoy it as much as Remus had done for Teddy.

"Are you sure?" Remus asked, as he always seemed to. Teddy rather liked that Remus was so careful to make sure they didn't do anything Teddy was uncomfortable with, even though he trusted Remus not to do anything or ask Teddy to do anything that he wouldn't find pleasurable.

"Absolutely," said Teddy, and he kissed Remus's mouth again.

"All right." Remus stroked sticky strands of fringe from Teddy's forehead, then turned over. "You'll want your wand."

Teddy nodded and scrambled for it, then moved to kneel between his father's thighs. He took a deep breath and let it out again, running his thumb over his wand handle, trembling.

Remus put his head upon his folded arms after casting a backwards glance at Teddy. "Go ahead, son."

Teddy nodded, then pushed Remus's arsecheeks apart with one hand, aiming his wand with the other.

At first he couldn't speak the spell; his mouth was too dry. The last thing he wanted was to hurt his father by performing the spell incorrectly. But he coughed and licked his lips and took another deep breath, then aimed again.

"Okay. _Ablue_."

There was a pause, and then Remus sighed.

"Very good, Ted. I'm ready when you are."

Teddy didn't need a second invitation. He cast his wand aside and bent to kiss his father's back, right at the base of his spine. He licked a wide, flat stripe over the skin there, then moved downwards over the ridges and valleys of Remus's tailbone, kissing and licking along the way as Remus shivered underneath him.

When he reached the crack of Remus's arse, he paused, giving his father the same consideration he'd been given.

"Dad? Are you ready?"

"Yes, I am," said Remus. "Go on."

Teddy took a deep breath and put his hands on either side of Remus's arse, pulling it open so that he could see. Tentatively he touched his tongue to the top of the crease, then moved downward. He worried a bit that his charm might not have worked properly, despite Remus's assurance, but when he felt the pucker of Remus's arsehole under his tongue it tasted pretty much the same as the other skin he'd been licking.

Remus murmured something indistinguishable as Teddy lapped at him.

Another breath, and Teddy shifted to a more comfortable position. Then, nervously, he pushed the tip of his tongue against the tiny hole, amazed at the feel of it gradually giving way to his pressure.

"That's lovely." Remus's voice was hoarse. "You're doing a splendid job--although you could relax the death grip."

With a nervous laugh, Teddy realised that he was digging his fingers into his father's arse hard enough to leave marks. "Sorry," he mumbled, and then licked again, wriggling his tongue a little further inside this time.

"Ahh, yes," Remus sighed. He was holding very still under Teddy's mouth. Teddy figured that the noises meant he was still doing fine, even if Remus wasn't moving. Maybe he was worried that it would be too much for Teddy if he pushed back against him the way Teddy had done when Remus was rimming him.

The channel of Remus's arse was soft, almost spongy, against his tongue as he licked experimentally, and the muscle at the entrance flexed. Entranced, Teddy kept on, his heart pounding at the thought that he was actually _inside_ his father, maybe not with his cock, but this was almost more intimate than that, wasn't it? For a moment he paused, overwhelmed with the sheer intensity of it, and Remus said softly, "You don't have to keep on if you're ready to stop."

Teddy pulled away long enough to say, "No, I want to--" before plunging his tongue back inside. Remus was trembling under him, and now Teddy could feel Remus rocking, just a tiny bit, wordlessly urging Teddy to go deeper if he was willing.

He was. _I'm sticking my tongue in my father's arse_ , his mind babbled at him. _I'm fucking him with my tongue_. Teddy was growing hard again, and he thanked his lucky stars that he was eighteen and virile enough to keep getting hard like this, even after such an incredible orgasm.

He took one of his hands away from his father's arse to coax his own prick back to full hardness, and continued spearing into Remus's channel with his tongue even as he wanked himself, circling his fingers around his stiffened cock.

Remus was moving a little more as Teddy continued his ministrations, making little sounds as if he were trying to stifle whimpers.

 _He's going to come_ , flashed across Teddy's brain like a Muggle neon sign. _My Dad's going to come while I have my tongue in his arse._ He wanted to beg his father to touch himself, to raise his arse in the air as Teddy had done, to please, please come because there was nothing in the world Teddy wanted more at that moment--but he didn't want to leave his father's arsehole, couldn't possibly have taken his probing tongue away in order to speak.

Teddy felt Remus shift, lifting up on one side, and wondered if Remus was touching himself, if Teddy had done well enough that Remus _wanted_ to touch himself. Remus hadn't stopped him, so Teddy thought he must be doing _something_ right. He left off fisting his cock and spread Remus's cheeks wide again, going at his mission with renewed vigour as Remus jerked his own cock--for yes, that was almost certainly what he was doing.

Remus began to pant, and he cried out, and a moment later, as Teddy speared his tongue particularly deep into his father's arse, Remus gave a great shuddering moan. _He's coming, oh god, from my tongue_.

Teddy withdrew his tongue, giving a great suckling kiss as Remus had done, and brought one hand down to his own cock, quickly jerking himself to completion, his come spattering onto the duvet and a little landing on Remus's left thigh.

Remus rolled onto his back, clearly making a great effort to get back into teaching mode.

"That same cleansing charm," he said, his voice shaking, "can also be used to clean up afterward. Here, get your wand, Ted, and I'll show you."

Teddy shook his head and lay on top of his father so that his belly rested across Remus's sticky one, and their legs were intertwined. "Not yet," he said, and if Remus minded this deliberate bit of disobedience, he said nothing, just gazed into Teddy's eyes, his chest rising and falling hard with each breath.

"I love you, Dad." It was barely even a whisper, and as soon as he'd said it, he remembered the last time he'd said those words, and Remus's protestations. But Remus said nothing, still catching his breath. He closed his eyes for a moment, and Teddy wondered if he were going to be reprimanded. But still his father said nothing, though Teddy felt reprimanded anyway.

To staunch the flow of shame that was quickly filling him, Teddy kissed Remus, then, and Remus made a noise that could almost have been a sound of protest, but he kissed Teddy back.

"I suppose we can conclude like father, like son," Remus said eventually. He stroked Teddy's hair as Teddy's head rested on his chest. "In that particular way, at least. But Teddy..." he broke off.

"What?" Teddy asked apprehensively, his mind coming up with all sorts of things that Remus might be wanting to say, most of which were not reassuring at all.

"Teddy, I'm going to treat you like an adult, and be honest. It makes me very uncomfortable to think that you might be saying 'I love you' not just to me as your dad, but to me as, well, a lover. Which we both know I'm not, and can't be--and I don't _want_ to be. You're my son and I love you as my son, and if I'm to tell you the truth I have to admit that you're a very attractive young man, as well, and if you weren't my son I might think seriously about pursuing something with you--but you _are_ , and Sam's the person I want to be with in that sort of relationship. I'm finding it difficult myself to be as neutral about these lessons as I'd hoped, so I don't blame you if you're having the same problem, not at all. Do you understand me?"

"I understand." Teddy gulped. It was flattering to know that his father thought he was attractive, maybe even sexy, but it also hurt to hear Remus say flat out that he preferred Sam. Not that it was a surprise, or anything, but still painful. "I'm sorry."

He felt Remus sigh. "I know you're doing your best. But maybe both our best isn't enough."

"You're not saying you won't keep teaching me?" Panic rose up in Teddy's chest. "Please, _please_ Dad. I really want to learn what you put down for the last two lessons."

"I'm not sure what the right thing to do is," Remus said. "Growing up doesn't necessarily make a person wise."

" _Please_ ," Teddy begged. "I haven't let anyone else know. If I get hurt it's my own fault."

"But you see, Teddy, I'll blame myself if you do, because I could have said no." Remus sighed again, but his hand moved softly over Teddy's head, his thumb stroking the rim of Teddy's ear.

Teddy suddenly didn't want his father touching him anymore--he ached inside, the sort of ache that felt as if it would be there forever. He sat up and moved to the edge of the bed. He hung his head and drew a deep breath to steady himself, hoping that his father would sit beside him, put an arm about his shoulders, comfort him with spoken reassurances and with kisses.

But Remus didn't. Teddy heard the rustle of the duvet as Remus moved, but there was no warm presence by his side, no comforting arm encircling him.

He heard Remus sigh, then there was the sound of more fabric moving--Remus was getting dressed, and Teddy felt foolish and young sitting there naked on the edge of the bed, his spent prick lying soft against his thigh, his belly sticky with his father's come. But he didn't move.

"Teddy." His father was kneeling in front of him, and he took both of Teddy's hands in his own. "Ted. Perhaps we should take a break from these lessons. I fear we're both losing sight of why we began them."

Teddy's stomach began to churn. _No!_ He wanted to shout at his father, to stand up and protest, to force him to continue the lessons. Remus had _promised_!

He took a shuddering breath. "Dad, _please_ \--"

"No, Ted. Don't beg." Remus squeezed his hands. "I want very much to continue with the lessons, perhaps just as much as you do--perhaps more. And we will. But a break is in order." He stood and let go of Teddy's hands, then sat beside him on the bed. But still there was no arm about his shoulders--no contact at all. Teddy shivered from the chill.

He knew his father was right. There was no way they could have a relationship--neither in Wizarding society nor in Muggle. And besides, it was clear that his father was in love with Sam. And Teddy really liked Sam. He did. But still his heart ached and his stomach clenched and his fingers flexed as if to hold on to the skeleton of the love affair that he knew could never be.

"Okay, Dad," he whispered, wrapping his arms around himself. "Sure. We can take a break." It pained him to say the words. He stood and began dressing, every piece of clothing a barrier between him and his father.

"Thank you." Remus's voice broke a little, and Teddy glanced sideways through his eyelashes at his father. Remus looked as unhappy as Teddy felt, but he also looked resolute, and Teddy knew that he wouldn't change his mind.

"When--" _When can we start the lessons again_ , he wanted to ask, but instead he said, "I guess I'll hear from you."

"Of course you will. Maybe you'd like to do something with Sam along again. And it's Christmas next month."

That was true, although just now Teddy couldn't feel very enthusiastic even about Christmas. "Yeah." He pulled on his trainers, not bothering to do up the laces, and moved towards the door. "I should probably go now."

"Don't forget your plugs." Remus nodded toward the carrier bag still sitting there.

Teddy picked it up, resisting the urge to hurl the contents at Remus for making him wait indefinitely before he'd teach Teddy again. Not that plugs were that complicated to use, he supposed, but if he tried them on his own, he was sure that he'd think of Remus every time, imagining his father's face as he came. "I'll see you, then."

He trudged down the stairs, too hurt and angry to risk Apparating; in this mood he'd probably lose concentration and splinch himself. Instead he decided to walk. Maybe he'd take a Muggle bus if he got tired.

By the time Teddy was back to his own flat, it was dark and cold and had started to rain, all of which suited him perfectly. He forwent going to get takeaway and instead heated a tin of beans to put on toast, and recklessly drank most of a bottle of wine that he'd had around in the fridge for ages. It was white, which he didn't much like, but tonight he didn't care. Nor did he worry about the headache he'd probably have in the morning.

"How could he do that?" Teddy demanded of his reflection in the mirror as he cleaned his teeth. His hair was a drab brown, and he scowled and defiantly changed it to bright magenta. "He _promised_."

 _But Dad didn't say the break was forever_ , his conscience reminded him. _Just for a while. He said he probably wanted to finish the lessons more than you did... and he said that if you weren't his son, he'd be attracted to you. So that means he_ is _attracted to you, right? And there_ are _good reasons not to be involved with your own father, you know that._

Yes, he knew that, but it didn't mean he liked it. Teddy stuck out his tongue at the mirror and went to bed.

In the morning, he woke with the headache he'd expected, damning himself for not worrying about it or taking any precautionary measures. He wasn't immediately sure what day it was. Did he have to work this morning?

He threw a hand over his eyes and forced himself to concentrate. Okay. It was Monday. He wasn't scheduled to work until the afternoon. Good--otherwise he might have been tempted to send an owl excusing himself.

He dragged himself out of bed, and rubbed the gunk from the corners of his eyes, then made his way to the bathroom, where he brushed the fuzz from his mouth and splashed a little cold water on his face. His hair was still flaming pink, and he decided he liked it that way, angry and spiteful and a contrast to the day that promised to be as grey as the day before. He wouldn't change it until he had to, for work.

There was little to eat in the house, but Teddy rummaged around until he found the remnants of the Chinese takeaway that he'd ordered--when? Friday? Maybe Thursday. Hmm. He sniffed it, shrugged, and found a fork in the drawer, not caring to take the time to heat up the chicken and rice as he stood there in his little kitchen in his pyjamas and bare feet. He hadn't even bothered to put on a dressing gown when he'd got up, which he almost regretted as the chill of the November morning surrounded him while he ate the cold food.

Teddy was determined that nothing was going to cheer him up. He shovelled the last of his makeshift breakfast in his mouth and tossed the container in the rubbish bin, then dropped the fork in the sink where it clanged against the chipped porcelain, causing a similar ringing sensation inside his head.

"Buggering fuck," Teddy said aloud to no one in particular. He knew he'd feel better if he'd take a little Pepper-Up and go out and find some proper breakfast, but he wasn't entirely sure he _wanted_ to feel better.

He collapsed on the sofa, throwing his arm over his forehead and staring up at the ceiling, letting his thoughts drift. What a stupid bloody night it had been last night. And the day had started off so brilliantly, with the trip to London and the gifts Remus had bought for him. Teddy scowled. Maybe he should go into his bedroom and wank over the fit Muggles in the magazine he'd bought--but no. Maybe later. He didn't know if he would feel like getting up off the sofa even if his flat should catch on fire.

Teddy dozed, knowing he'd feel heaps better if he went and had a shower--and the Pepper-Up that was sitting in the bathroom cupboard--but he didn't want to move.

When the owl started tapping on the window, increasing the volume of the pounding in his head, Teddy nearly hexed the damned thing. His heart leapt when he had an idea of who the owl might be from-- _Dad!_ \--but the handwriting on the envelope was unfamiliar, and Teddy sank back down upon the sofa with a yawn and a sigh.

 _Hey Ted,_ he read in the scrawled hand. _I remembered you said you had to spend time at your old man's house on Sunday, but I wondered if maybe you'd like to go out for a drink tonight, or grab some dinner? Afternoon practise for the reserve squad will be over by 5.00. If your reply owl doesn't reach me before we start, I'll get the message when we're done. I thought maybe the Leaky Cauldron. Hope to see you tonight. Andrew._

Reading Andrew's message cheered Teddy up considerably. He was supposed to work until seven that night--Madam Poyt always needed extra cleaning done after the weekend, when she restocked all the bins at Slug and Jiggers and invariably seemed to spill things--but since he worked so close to the Leaky, and presumably Andrew might want to wash up after practise, maybe seven would be all right.

He scribbled a hasty note in reply, tied it to the brown owl's leg and gave it an Owl Treat before opening the window. His head still throbbed, but now that the day seemed considerably more worthwhile than it had earlier, he went into the bathroom for a dose of Pepper-Up and took a nice hot shower while he was at it. Washing his cock and balls and arse inevitably reminded him again of the day before. Well. He mightn't have had all the lessons his father had planned, yet, but he _did_ feel more confident in what he might do with Andrew... if it came to that. Which, Teddy decided, he definitely hoped it would.

It was after eleven by the time he left his flat, so he stopped in a Muggle shop and bought himself an egg sandwich for an early lunch before work, and a cheese and tomato one for his tea. He'd have liked prawn, but didn't think that stale fishy breath was what he wanted for a date. It _was_ a date, wasn't it? Teddy grinned to himself as he took a big bite. Funny, that his first proper date after leaving school would be with another bloke, when he'd spent all of last year with Victoire, for whose attentions most of the male students of any age had vied.

Madam Poyt was in a good mood, chattering to Teddy about her grandchildren and her family's holiday plans. He'd long since learned to nod at appropriate moments without really listening, so the day passed quickly.

He'd told Andrew that unless he heard otherwise from Andrew, he'd be at the Leaky shortly after seven and wait until eight. As soon as Slug and Jiggers was locked up for the night, he turned his hair magenta again, hurried down the cold street, and stepped gratefully into the pub's warmth, looking around to see if Andrew was there.

"Ted, over here!" He heard Andrew's voice.

To his relief, Andrew was alone, as he'd assumed and only worried later might not be the case. But none of the other Pride team members were there, just Andrew with a half-empty pint glass in front of him.

Teddy slid into the booth across from Andrew and tried--but failed--to keep from breaking out in an enormous grin. So much for playing it cool--but Andrew didn't seem to mind. He grinned back at Teddy, then stared down into his pint glass for a moment as if attempting to calm himself down.

When Andrew looked up, he was still smiling. "Sorry," he said, "I'm not usually this, um, silly. I've just been looking forward to seeing you."

 _Silly_? Okay, Andrew was definitely as queer as they came. Teddy laughed a little. It was pretty damned endearing.

"You're fine," he said, signalling the waitress. "So have I." He ordered a pint for himself and another for Andrew, and when the waitress left, he continued. "I'm sorry if I smell a little funny--I just got off work. Slug and Jiggers. You know."

Andrew drained the last of the ale from his glass. "Been in there a time or two, yeah, I know it--but you smell fine. From here, anyway." He looked around and leaned forward, murmuring, "I'd have to get closer to tell for sure."

A hot wave washed over Teddy, followed by an icy one--Andrew was _flirting_ with him! In the middle of the _Leaky_ , where anyone could see! It was noisy enough, he supposed, that probably no one would have heard, but Teddy wasn't exactly ready to take the chance that anyone might. And, he supposed, neither was Andrew, from the way he'd looked around like that.

He swallowed hard and began to form a semblance of a response just as their pints arrived. Teddy busied himself with a hearty swallow, giving himself a couple of extra seconds to come up with a response. Sure, they'd done some snogging and groping the other night, but Teddy was pretty sure Andrew had been quite drunk. He squirmed in his seat as he remembered Andrew cupping his cock through his jeans--then flashed on his father doing the same thing.

Okay. _Fuck it_.

"That could be arranged," Teddy replied, giving his best imitation of a saucy smile. He took another gulp of beer, raising his eyebrows in a challenge.

Andrew backpedalled. "I mean--I don't want you to think all I want is a quick... _you know_." He gave that same furtive glance over both his shoulders as if to be sure no one was spying on their conversation. "Okay?" He leaned forward, speaking even more softly. "I know I was pretty drunk the other night, when we, uh--but I liked you before we did all that, too." Colour rose in his cheeks, and that was when it finally got through to Teddy how young Andrew was--scarcely older than himself. Teddy didn't remember him from Hogwarts, though; perhaps he'd gone to one of the Continental schools.

Teddy blushed, too. "Okay," he said, wiping condensation from his glass and leaning forward so their heads were quite close together, "But I hope a fuck's not entirely out of the question." Oh, shit, had he actually just _said_ that? Had he gone too far? Shit. He wasn't sure if he was _actually_ ready for an _actual_ fuck...

It was Andrew's turn for speechlessness. He sat across from Teddy with his mouth slightly open, his eyes wide. Finally, he shook his head.

"No," he said, "um. Maybe we should get out of here."

Teddy drained his glass and set it down with a bang. A line he'd once heard in a Muggle film came out of his mouth before he realised what he was saying, and he hoped to god it didn't sound cheesy to Andrew.

"Okay, then. Your place or mine?"

Andrew lifted his glass and finished it slowly, looking all around him as he did so. Who, exactly, was he expecting to be listening to them? "Um," he said finally, "I expect yours is closer."

"Yeah. I'm not on the Floo Network, though. It's maybe a twenty-minute walk."

"Yours, then--but I'd rather have something to eat first, if you don't mind," said Andrew. "Practise always makes me starved."

"Of course." Teddy licked his lips. "We could pick up something on the way to my flat. There's a decent curry shop on the way, or Chinese."

"Spicy?" Andrew sounded doubtful. He stood and began pulling on his coat, and so did Teddy, being sure to _accidentally_ brush up against Andrew, who shrank away at the contact. Okay, maybe he was a bit shy.

"Not if you don't want. On the menu they put a little symbol of a chile next to the dishes that are hot," Teddy explained, wondering if Andrew didn't spend much time in the Muggle world. Well, if it hadn't been for Teddy's godfather Harry taking Teddy to Muggle places as a kid, he might not know very much either.

Andrew paused, then leaned close. "There should be one on you, then," he muttered close to Teddy's ear, and he turned red again under his shaggy fair fringe.

"You too." Teddy's heart was beating fast. "Shall we go, then?"

They walked close together through the chilly night, but they didn't touch. Andrew talked about his practise that day, which hadn't gone very well, one of the other Chasers being injured by a Bludger. When they had almost reached Bombay Curry, Teddy asked in an undertone if Andrew wanted him to order.

"You'll probably choose better," admitted Andrew.

"Fine--just tell me what kind of meat you like and I'll go from there."

Andrew liked lamb, so Teddy ended up ordering a rogan josh, asking to make sure it wouldn't be too spicy, and Malai prawns since Teddy wanted something in a coconut sauce. He made sure they'd have a couple of different chutneys and raitas, and added rice and chapatis. Luckily he had enough Muggle money with him to pay for it all, and they each carried one of the delicious-smelling bags back to his flat.

At Teddy's flat, they sat at his little kitchen table devouring the takeaway--Teddy was hungrier than he'd thought he was--and chatting like old friends. They'd discovered they had quite a lot in common, and Teddy felt himself warming up to Andrew on more levels than just the physical. He felt a bit foolish for all his bravado back at the Leaky, and was glad when they fell into easy conversation.

When the meal was finished, Andrew stood and began to clear away the takeaway containers and dishes.

"Forget it," Teddy said, "I can get those later."

"You're sure?" Andrew stood by the table, shifting from foot to foot, his hands in the pockets of his jeans, looking quite young again.

"Yeah," Teddy said, summoning all his courage and moving closer to Andrew. "Definitely." He knew his breath probably wasn't smelling its best, but Andrew had just consumed plenty of garlic and strange seasonings as well, so he put a shaking hand on Andrew's shoulder and leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips.

And a moment later-- _thank god_ \--Andrew responded, kissing him back, slowly at first, then Teddy put his hands in Andrew's hair and they both intensified the kiss, opening their mouths, their tongues brushing tentatively against one another. Andrew made a little needy sound in the back of his throat and put his arms around Teddy, and a moment later, they broke the kiss, both breathing hard.

"Hey," Teddy whispered, his eyes half-closed, his lips puffy. He leaned his forehead against Andrew's, and Andrew leaned back, closing his eyes.

"Hey," Andrew whispered back. They held each other close for a long moment. Teddy let his hands wander over Andrew's back, tracing a crooked trail down his spine and back up again, and Andrew shivered.

Teddy smiled and moved to kiss his neck, pleased by his application so far of the lessons he'd learned and encouraged by Andrew's response, but Andrew twisted his neck away.

"Sorry," he said, grinning sheepishly, "I'm just really ticklish there."

"You're all right," Teddy murmured, "Come here." He carded one hand through Andrew's hair and ran the other up and down Andrew's back again, and Andrew melted a little into their embrace. Teddy kissed him, then, and Andrew kissed him back fiercely, his hands on either side of Teddy's face.

Andrew broke their kiss just long enough to gasp " _Bedroom_?" and Teddy nodded and began to walk him backwards into the little bedroom, kissing him all the while.

He hadn't made his bed that morning, and there were clothes strewn over it, but Andrew didn't seem to mind as Teddy shoved everything that was in the way to the floor. The pause gave Teddy time enough to feel nervous again. He covered it by starting to undress Andrew, tugging Andrew's shirt out from his trousers and sliding his hands up along the bare skin of Andrew's back as he kissed him again.

The kisses were wet though not sloppy and Teddy was beginning to get really aroused as they rolled around on the bed. He let his fingers slide under Andrew's waistband.

"Hang on." Andrew fumbled with the buttons of Teddy's shirt, first, and Teddy was happy enough to let it be taken off, to reciprocate so that they lay chest to chest with their trousers still on, shoes kicked off onto the floor.

"That's cool," Andrew said, stroking the sparse hair on Teddy's chest. "That you can turn it that colour, you know? Never seen anyone do that before."

Teddy grinned and turned all his hair blue, then green, then bright orange, then back to the magenta. "It's fun sometimes, yeah."

"What colour is it for real?"

"Just brown." Teddy let it flicker to natural for a moment. "Not very interesting."

"I like that too." Andrew brushed his thumb across Teddy's nipple, his eyes intent on Teddy's face. Teddy hummed and nodded and reached to touch Andrew in the same way.

"You can pinch harder," Teddy said, and Andrew did, a little hesitantly, then when Teddy moaned a bit and nodded, he twisted them. "Oh, _yeah_."

They kept on with that, kissing in between, until Teddy started to think he might come in his pants without even getting naked. He reached for Andrew's cock, as stiff as his own through the fabric, and Andrew gasped, "Yes," fumbling at Teddy's zip to undo it, too.

Andrew seemed to be as excited as Teddy was, judging from the way he tore at Teddy's jeans and helped get his own off. He kept twisting one of Teddy's nipples while they undressed until Teddy had to beg him to stop.

"Please--I'll--oh, okay, oh god, that's good, but--" Teddy swatted Andrew's hand away from his chest. Andrew didn't seem to mind--he just shoved Teddy's pants down with both hands, then his own, and their cocks slapped together, causing Teddy to let out an embarrassingly theatrical moan.

"Do you have--lube?" Andrew gasped. One of his hands crept back, back between Teddy's legs, towards his arsehole, and it took all the reserve Teddy had not to swat Andrew's hand away again. Okay. Oh god. They were actually going to _fuck_. A chorus of _I'm not ready for this!_ echoed in Teddy's brain while his body took over, running on adrenaline and testosterone.

He rolled Andrew over, mumbling " _Fuck it_ " just loud enough for Andrew to hear, then dropped a frantic series of kisses down Andrew's chest and belly. Andrew's whole body stiffened when Teddy took his cock in his mouth, and Teddy smiled as much as he could, groaning a little to let Andrew know it was all right.

"Fuck--fuck, _Ted_ ," Andrew gasped. He twisted his hands in Teddy's hair, and Teddy nodded, hollowing his cheeks and swallowing hard around Andrew's cock. Andrew kicked his legs out, and Teddy stretched out upon them, holding him still. He caressed Andrew's bollocks with one hand and Andrew wriggled underneath him, letting out wordless little cries.

Then his grip tightened on Teddy's hair and he gasped out a warning and pulled, _hard_ , but Teddy was too caught up in preventing a fuck to realise that Andrew had been saying _gonna come_. He only sucked harder, taking more of Andrew's prick in his mouth, and all of a moment there was a flood of semen coating Teddy's tongue. He choked and his eyes began to water, but he swallowed hard. A little of Andrew's come dribbled out the side of his mouth, running down his chin and onto his neck, but Teddy didn't give a damn. He'd done it--sucked someone off, made someone come, someone who _wanted him_ , as was evidenced by Andrew's hands grasping blindly for Teddy's embrace.

"Bloody _hell_ ," Andrew gasped, putting his arms around Teddy. "You're _good_ at that!"

Teddy ducked his head and smiled and pressed a kiss to Andrew's collarbone. His prick still raged with hormones and need, and he pressed it against Andrew's thigh.

"Is--oh--" Andrew said then, and he reached for Teddy's erection. "Do you want me to--?" The question hung in the air, and for a moment Teddy wasn't sure what Andrew meant, until Andrew began moving downwards.

" _Oh_ ," he breathed, "Only if you want to--" His protestation was half-hearted and, it turned out, unnecessary, as Andrew took to sucking cock with the same exuberance he showed on a broom. Only afterward would Teddy think about technique, and judge Andrew less good than Remus--not exactly a surprise--but significantly better than either of the boys who'd done it to Teddy at Hogwarts. Right now he could only moan and sigh and, far too soon, have to warn Andrew that he was going to come. Andrew didn't stop any more than Teddy had, but he did spit out Teddy's semen afterward, making a face.

"Sorry," he said as he wiped his mouth, and kissed Teddy apologetically. "Was afraid I'd gag on it."

"'S okay. It felt brilliant anyhow." Teddy ran a hand along Andrew's skin, glad that Andrew seemed quite happy to stay there, with their legs entangled, all sticky with sweat. He kissed Andrew again, tasting himself, the flavour diminishing as the kiss went on.

"I wish I could stay," said Andrew presently.

"You can't?" Teddy was disappointed.

Andrew shook his head. "Morning practise tomorrow, and they have us eat breakfast together first, make sure we're eating right." He gave a snort, sitting up and peering around for his clothing. "But at least it's free."

"I have to work early tomorrow too," admitted Teddy as he watched Andrew get dressed again, and found his own pyjama bottoms to pull on. "But look, I really had a good time tonight. Um. Maybe we could meet up again later this week?"

"I'd like that a lot." Andrew ran his fingers through his hair and smiled. "When's good for you?"

Teddy thought for a minute. Madam Poyt changed his schedule a lot. "I don't have to work till noon on Thursday, this week."

"Perfect. I have Thursday off too. I mean, I'll want to fly some, but there's no regular practise that day, not for the reserves. Want to meet me Wednesday evening? I don't actually live in Portree, but in Glasgow; more wizards there. And I am on the Floo, or you can Apparate--I'll write down the address for you."

"Great." Teddy took the scrap of parchment and walked with Andrew to the front door, awkwardly holding out his hand to shake goodbye, and pleased when Andrew ignored it to give him a quick clumsy hug instead. "See you Wednesday night, then."

He shut the door behind Andrew and leaned against it, an enormous grin on his face.  



	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Remus have a long talk, but Remus doesn't tell Sam what's really on his mind.

Remus spent Sunday evening missing Teddy and trying to remember the last thing he'd said to him. _Don't forget your plugs_. He was fairly certain that had been it. He rolled his eyes at himself as he stripped the bed in the spare room of its sheets. How _supportive_ of him. What a brilliant father he'd turned out to be. _Bugger it all, anyhow._

He didn't sleep much Sunday night and was, as a result, nearly late to work Monday morning. The day passed shrouded in a fog both mental and physical. Remus wandered around Flourish and Blotts trying to shelve the new order that had come in but doing a piss-poor job of it, his mind teeming with could-haves and should-haves, his heart aching at the memory of Teddy's untied shoelaces (and why should he choose _that_ , of all things, to remember?).

He thought he might have lunch at the Leaky--he did love the ham and chicken pie they served every Monday noon--but he'd have had to pass the apothecary to get there. He was fairly certain Teddy didn't even work until the afternoon today, but he couldn't let himself take the chance. He sighed at the window like a heartbroken schoolboy.

And he _was_ heartbroken, in a sense. He'd had to deny so much that he wanted, so many things that his heart (and how often had that heart been cracked or shattered and carefully pieced back together?) demanded of him. Teddy--his lovely Teddy, his boy, the child he'd loved for so many years--now a grown man with love and desire brimming from him in every direction, unguided.

Damned poor job of guiding him Remus had managed to do. He snorted at himself and shook his head to clear it, getting back to shelving the new shipment. The Christmas shopping season was in full swing, and he needed to be lucid for it.

Anyway, he reminded himself, there would be one bright spot in the day. Sam had owled that he'd definitely be able to come by that evening. Remus was fairly certain he wouldn't be in the mood for any sort of lovemaking, but Sam's comfortable companionship would be enough.

He just hoped that his companionship would be enough for Sam.

He huffed as he lifted a box containing a dozen copies of _Christmas with Celestina: Songs and Stories From My Heart to Yours_. Of course it would be enough. They were adults--they didn't need to go around rutting against each other like demented schoolboys.

Remus scowled at Celestina Warbeck's simpering visage on the book's cover as thoughts of demented schoolboys rutting against _Teddy_ filled his head. Well, they wouldn't be _schoolboys_ just now, since it wasn't the holidays... but maybe one of those Quidditch players, or one of the friends Teddy saw at the pub. _Young punks_ , he thought.

Then, reluctantly, he remembered what Sirius and he had been like. Had they really been so different? No, not if he were honest about it. The idea just bothered him because Teddy was his son. A good thing he hadn't had a daughter--he'd have probably gone mad with protectiveness, although he'd also have been far more able to restrain himself, and not have ended up in this ridiculous situation.

He ended up skipping a proper lunch altogether, rummaging to find a dusty old packet of prawn crisps that he'd shoved in the back of a drawer. By the time he was home he was starving, but decided to make an elaborate meal anyhow, chicken and vegetables and pasta in a mustardy cream sauce. He didn't expect Sam until later; when he heard Sam's amused voice asking, "Is there enough for two?", he nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Of course," Remus said. He always cooked enough for at least two servings. He might enjoy cooking, but that didn't mean he wanted to have to make a complete meal just for himself every night. Leftovers were perfectly fine and he'd bought a Muggle microwave ages ago to make it easier to reheat them. "Almost ready, in fact--could you bring the plates from that cupboard?"

Sam nodded and fetched them, laying the table with cutlery as well and then coming up to Remus from behind and putting his arms around Remus's waist as he stirred the sauce.

"You look as though you had a bad day," Sam said. "So did I, actually. Shall we commiserate together?"

Remus let himself lean back against Sam for a moment. "Yes. Let me just finish with this." He'd have to think of something to tell Sam, something that _wasn't_ the whole truth but wasn't a lie, either. He'd learned the hard way with Tonks that lying was no good.

As he poured the sauce over the chicken and set the platter on the table, he let out a long, cleansing sigh, attempting to breathe out all the worries of his day. It nearly worked; his shoulders relaxed a little and he managed a genuine smile as he and Sam sat down next to each other. He busied himself serving up the chicken and the vegetables, and finally took Sam's hand, squeezing it.

"Tell me about your day. What happened that was so bad?"

Sam forked up a bite of chicken. "No, you first, I think. You seem genuinely miserable, whereas, well, I'm just a bloke who had a bad day."

Was his misery really as transparent as all that? Remus put a big piece of broccoli in his mouth to give himself time to manufacture a cleaned-up version of the truth.

"It's Teddy," he finally said when he'd chewed and swallowed. "We had... ah, a bit of a row, you might say, last night, and we haven't spoken since." Sam started to speak, but Remus held up a hand. "It's fine; he's a young man, prone to occasional fits of temper and, well, hormones. He'll come around again and it'll all work out. I just don't like quarrelling with him--it happens so rarely. We've always got on so well."

Sam nodded, and Remus sighed again.

"And today, well, I saw him in Diagon, walking with another young man. They seemed entranced with one another." It was a perfectly valid lie; he'd seen it clear as day in his mind's eye, the young man pushing Teddy against a storefront and snogging him senseless, wedging a knee between Teddy's legs...

Remus nearly growled.

"Ohhh," Sam said, spearing a mange-tout on his fork. Remus waited for him to say something else-- _anything_ else to fill the silence that followed the lie, but Sam just ate his mange-tout, chewing slowly. Remus could practically see the cogs turning in Sam's head--and was that a _smile_ playing about Sam's lips?

"This is serious," Remus continued, though he knew he wouldn't be able to get across to Sam how serious the situation really was, not without revealing the whole truth of it. "He's only eighteen."

Now Sam laughed out loud. "Come on, Remus. I had birds throwing their knickers at me onstage when I was eighteen, and I'll spare you from knowing what was happening _backstage_ , but if Teddy's just holding hands in Diagon Alley, I honestly don't think there's much to worry about. He's spent the last seven years in school, where you knew he was being supervised; don't you think maybe you're just being a little overprotective, now that he's more on his own? And kids that age--it's perfectly normal to row with your parents, as you know. One way to break the tie. So he may be later in doing it than some, but it doesn't mean he doesn't really love you, deep down."

 _Not so deep down as all that_ , Remus refrained from saying.

"Look, I saw the two of you together on Saturday, and things were fine. If you had a quarrel, it'll blow over. But you _won't_ make things easier if you start interfering in Teddy's love life; he'll very rightfully resent it. You wouldn't like it if he were trying to tell you not to see me, would you?" Sam pointed his fork at Remus.

"No," Remus admitted.

"So give him the respect you'd want, and he deserves. He's a good kid, from all I can tell. Or is there something else?"

Maybe Sam was right, maybe Remus was just being overprotective of his only son. _Or jealous over him_ , his conscience nagged him. Remus sighed. "That's mostly what's bothering me. As I said, I don't like feeling that we're estranged."

"Give it a week," advised Sam, reaching for the platter and taking another spoonful of pasta, pausing, then adding a half-spoonful more. "Then send him an owl, maybe. One of my old students is giving a concert a week from Saturday--she's a near-Squib, but she has the most amazing voice, and is making a real name for herself in the Muggle pop-music world. I could probably get tickets to her show, if you think Teddy might like that? Three, or perhaps four?"

"He _would_ like that, I'm pretty certain." Remus wrestled with himself. "Four tickets, if you would. I don't know if the young man I saw is someone he'd want to bring along, but I expect he'd have a friend to invite, if nothing else. That's generous of you, Sam."

"No trouble." Sam leaned across the table and squeezed Remus's hand. "I hope it helps."

"I'm sure it will." Remus squeezed back. "I've been whinging about Teddy, but what caused _your_ bad day?" Sam rarely talked about his problems, and Remus felt badly that Sam always seemed to be supporting Remus in one way or another, whereas Remus rarely had the opportunity to reciprocate.

Sam sighed and toyed with his fork. "Zinaida Crossland tendered her resignation today. I've told you about her, haven't I? Head of Fundraising."

Remus nodded, though he was uncertain he'd actually heard of her. "Which, ah, which charity is-- _was_ she with, again?"

"Oh--sorry, yeah. Wands to Plowshares. The aid society. You know. She's brilliant. She's the reason we've grown so much over the past, oh, what's it been now--eight years or so now." Sam slumped in his chair, looking, Remus thought, perhaps a little too dejected for an issue that must happen fairly often in Sam's field. but he said nothing--after all, he had probably seemed more miserable than he should have to Sam.

He ignored the voice in the back of his head that nagged him that perhaps he should have told Sam the truth. _That_ was impossible.

"I'm so sorry," he said, finishing the last of his pasta. "Is she retiring?"

"She's ill," said Sam. "Quite ill, and quite old. I'm afraid she might not be long for the world."

"Oh--" Remus stood and moved behind Sam, kissing the top of his head and putting his arms around Sam's neck. "I'm so sorry." Suddenly his troubles were trivial, and he was annoyed with himself for thinking they were at all important in the grander scheme of things.

"Oh, we've been expecting it for a while," said Sam. "She's been ill for about a year now. It was just heartbreaking when she made the announcement of her resignation today--her hands were shaking, and her voice was, too."

Remus rocked gently back and forth in silence for a long moment with his arms around Sam.

"You don't think that you'd--" he finally said, but Sam cut him off.

"No way. I couldn't do it. I'm crap with finances--you know that--if I'd managed my own profits, I'd be broke and living in an alley by now. Smartest thing I ever did was to hire someone to do all that. And fundraising, well, I don't much fancy being in the public eye like that again. No. Don't even say it."

"Okay." Remus kissed him again. "It's completely your call." He looked at Sam's plate, which was empty. "Had enough dinner? Afraid I haven't anything for afters, except whisky if you like."

"Yeah." Sam's chest heaved in a sigh. "That'd be good."

The dirty dishes and pans could wait. "Go into the living room and I'll be right there."

He poured two tumblers of whisky and carried them out, handing one to Sam and sitting beside him. "I really am sorry about Zinaida," he said quietly. "I'm sure she'll be hard to replace; she sounds like she was splendid for the organisation and a good person, too."

"She is a good person." Sam leaned against Remus, who put his arm around him. "Let's talk about something else though, all right? Any interesting little stories about your customers today, maybe?"

"Let me think." Remus took a sip, enjoying the slow burn as the alcohol found its way down his throat. "Not today, but last week there was a fellow who wanted very specifically the 1983 edition of _Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions_. I told him that we didn't have that one, but the more recent version, from 2012, which of course has more up-to-date cures for several of the ailments, and perhaps he'd like that instead? No, no, he wanted the 1983 one, only that would do. Eventually I discovered that the reason why was because it was precisely the right height to wedge up a broken leg on his bureau."

Sam chuckled. "So what did you do?"

"Suggested that perhaps Gilderoy Lockhart's _Gadding with Ghouls_ might do the trick instead." Remus grinned and shook his head. "Since apparently neither the customer nor his wife had the skill to charm the leg whole again."

"Probably the best purpose the Lockhart book would ever serve," agreed Sam, snuggling closer.

"That's what I thought. I was never able to understand why Albus Dumbledore hired him to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts, but then, I expect most people thought it equally odd that _I_ was hired."

"Oh, but I'm sure you were a brilliant professor, no matter what people thought at first," said Sam, leaning his head on Remus's shoulder, "I only wish I'd had the opportunity to see you in action."

Remus said nothing, taking another swallow of whisky. He finally managed a noncommittal _hmm_ , shifting in his seat.

"Seriously, though." Sam sat up and pressed a kiss to Remus's cheek. "I'd've had such a crush on you if you were my professor." He stood, setting his whisky on the side table, and straddled Remus's lap, putting his arms around Remus's neck.

"Sexiest professor _ever_ ," Sam murmured as he leaned in to kiss the shell of Remus's ear. "Would've liked to have you teach me a thing or two. 'Course, that could still be arranged, couldn't it? I'm sure you have a few secrets tucked away, a few tricks to show me. What do you say... _Professor_?" He moved lower, kissing Remus's neck, and Remus went completely still. Oh, _no_ , no, no.

"Sam--" he said as gently as possible, pushing a little on Sam's chest with the hand that wasn't holding his whisky, "I don't think--"

"But, _Professor_ ," Sam murmured, trailing a hand down Remus's chest, "I need you to teach me."

Remus cringed. "Seriously, Sam, I'm not playing."

But Sam apparently thought that Remus _was_ playing the role of the reticent professor, and he cupped Remus's limp cock through his trousers. "What's the matter, sir? Don't you like me?"

"For fuck's _sake_ , Sam!" Remus shoved him away, spilling a little of his whisky in the process. He knew he wouldn't normally have exploded like this, but the parallel of Sam's behaviour with Teddy's earnest pleas was too much to take.

Sam staggered to his feet, blinking, coming out of the fantasy in which he had been indulging alone. "Hey, wow--what's going on?"

Remus shook his head, trying to breathe deeply, to calm down.

"I'm sorry," he managed after a minute.

"No, _I'm_ sorry." Sam sat back down, a little way away from Remus, looking worried. "What's the problem? I know we haven't done anything like role-playing before, but I didn't think you'd mind trying something new."

"It's not... not the idea of role-playing, it's _that_ one." Remus was still shaking, and he lifted his glass and drank the rest of his whisky in one swallow. Sam took the empty glass from his fingers and set it down. "Too close to home, I guess. Maybe because I _was_ a professor."

"Okay, I can see that," said Sam slowly. "That makes sense. If you were ever tempted, it would be hard to see it as a game."

Remus swallowed and nodded. "I was." It was no more than the truth, although when he was at Hogwarts, Remus would never have dreamed of acting on those desires. He owed too much to Dumbledore to risk anything. "I never--ever!--did anything with a student, but... yeah."

Sam leaned over and kissed Remus's cheek. "I'm sorry," he repeated soberly. "I didn't mean to upset you like that."

"I know." Remus took Sam's hand, then moved over on the sofa so that they were touching again. "You couldn't have known." Guilt gnawed at him for not telling Sam the whole truth, but he _couldn't_.

"Guess that killed the mood, eh?" Sam's voice was rueful. "Oh well. Another night."

"You don't need to go," said Remus hastily. "If you want to stay, just to sleep, I'd like that."

"We're not kids who have to have sex every night," Sam agreed. "And I like sleeping with you... even when it's just sleeping. Sure, I'll stay." He chuckled a little. "Maybe we'd better spend the spare time telling each other some of our sexual quirks, for future reference?"

Remus put on his most serious face and blinked, staring at Sam, determined to add a little levity to their conversation. "Don't tell me you have a thing for goats."

Sam paused, then laughed hesitantly. "Goats--what--?"

Remus stared at him a moment longer, then let his expression fall into a grin. "Nothing. Just being funny. You remember--or maybe you don't--Aber--" He stopped himself. "You know what--never mind. It was a lame joke at best. Just a bloke we all used to know who seemed a little too close to his pet goats. A joke from the old days. I don't know why I thought of it just now."

"Okay," Sam said then, "Well, I'm not into goats--nor any other animal, for that matter." He paused, then chuckled. "Except for my werewolf, I suppose."

"Ha-ha," replied Remus, "Aren't you funny." He wasn't feeling entirely calm yet after the Professor Episode, and though he was pressed against Sam's warmth, he was slightly less than comfortable inside, still, and thus reverted to sarcasm. Sirius had once told him that sarcasm didn't look good on him--and what the hell was he doing, thinking of Sirius now? God, first Teddy, then Sirius. Remus shook his head. Next thing he knew he'd be calling Sam _Tonks_ while they fucked. No, thank you.

"I mean it," Sam said. "Hey. Remus. I love you."

It was the first time either of them had said it since the other night. Remus tensed upon hearing the words, but soon after, he was able to relax into Sam's embrace.

"I know it," he said, and, after a pause, he added, "You, too, you know. I do love you."

"I know it," Sam said, and they drifted in silence for a while, there together on Remus's ancient sofa.

Eventually, though, Remus had to say, "Bed, I guess, is in order. I don't know that this is much of a place to sleep."

"No." Sam moved and stretched. "Thirty years ago, maybe, but not now."

They took care of all the necessary ablutions and crawled into Remus's bed together, spooning up with Sam behind Remus, holding him. Remus was glad that Sam seemed perfectly all right with simply going to sleep; he'd have probably gone along with it if Sam had again brought up the idea of having sex, but he didn't really feel like it.

He could get used to sharing a bed with Sam regularly, he decided. Although maybe not always curled up together. When Sam's breathing had evened out, Remus wriggled a little ways away, so that he could turn over without disturbing Sam. Sirius had always complained that Remus moved around a lot at night. Tonks never seemed to care, and his various lovers since had mostly not lasted long enough that it ever was a problem.

"Morning, sleepyhead," Sam roused him. "Seven o'clock."

Remus sat bolt upright. "Already? Bugger."

"You shower first, I'll go switch on the kettle for tea," said Sam. "Don't worry, you won't be late."

He wasn't, by the skin of his teeth, and this morning was far less irritable than yesterday, having been sent off with a kiss from Sam and a suggestion that Remus come over the next night, Wednesday. Remus suspected that they were both still playing things a little safe. Declarations of love were good and certainly welcome, but that didn't mean either of them was quite ready to spend every night together yet.

Today he manned the till and let Sarah shelve the few things that had come in and check to make sure that everything was where it was meant to be. It was a rather slow day in the shop, and Remus had plenty of time to think.

Sam was the first person he thought about. Their relationship had become significantly more serious than Remus had expected when they'd first started seeing each other, about a year before. Which was good, very good. He hadn't felt this way about anyone in years, and he liked it, liked knowing that Sam felt the same way about him. It might be a while before they decided to live together, but Remus suspected it would happen sooner or later. He was pretty sure that they'd both want to be exclusive then, too.

That thought led Remus to Teddy.

Though neither he nor Sam had ever discussed seeing each other exclusively, Remus was certain that Sam had been monogamous for the better part of their relationship. And so had Remus himself. Until Teddy.

Remus sat heavily on the stool behind the till, rearranging the quills in the cup on the counter. Did Teddy count? If Remus had an affair with anyone _else_ , would he tell Sam about it? He shook his head, putting the quill cup back. He wasn't sure. Besides which, he didn't _want_ to be with anyone but Sam--and since the desire to stray wasn't there, neither was any spark of an idea about how he might feel if he did.

He stared up at the ceiling for a moment. It wasn't an _affair_ with Teddy. It was just like the voice lessons that Sam gave to his students. Only... not. Remus snorted at his rationalisation.

Okay, maybe it wasn't comparable to voice lessons, but it wasn't comparable to a love affair, either--though it had strayed perilously close to being one. This break could only be a good thing, allowing them both to differentiate familial love from the dangerous feelings they'd both been toying with.

And when they started up the lessons again...

Remus frowned. _Should_ they? Could it possibly be wise even to try? Remus knew he was weak--it had taken all the strength he had inside him not to follow Teddy down the stairs on Sunday evening--and he knew how stubborn and pushy Teddy could be. _Just like his mother_ , Remus reflected.

Surely Teddy would be fine on his own. If Remus had managed to figure things out, along with generations of men before him, then there was nothing wrong with Teddy doing the same. And, Remus thought, at least Teddy had been given a head start, had been taught how to kiss and how to touch. There were some men who never learned that at all.

Remus knew that, and he believed it. Teddy was going to be all right. And yet every time he thought of Teddy applying what he'd learned to a real life situation, something hot and mean grew inside him, as if some sort of monster had taken up residence in his chest. He couldn't stand to think about Teddy even smiling at another boy, let alone kissing him or taking off his clothes, or more.

He wasn't sure how he was going to make it through Sam's student's concert if Teddy did end up bringing a friend. He tapped his fingers on the counter. Maybe, though, that was the way to judge his own emotions? A certain twinge of concern for Teddy was natural and fatherly, but true jealousy was something else again. If he saw Teddy with another boy, and was able to accept that, then it would be safe--at least for Remus's well-being--to continue with the final two lessons. Whether it would be the same for Teddy was another matter, and one far harder for Remus to judge.

A customer wanting to buy a copy of _One Minute Feasts - It's Magic!_ distracted Remus from the problem for several minutes, since she also wanted the book gift-wrapped, which meant waving over Sarah who was far better at that than Remus. His parcels had a discouraging tendency to come undone at the most inopportune moments.

By the end of the day, Remus had concluded that he would make no decision about the lessons until at least after the concert, when he'd see how he felt, and how Teddy was acting. He _had_ promised to carry out the lessons, yes, but better to break the promise if carrying them out only hurt them both. If it seemed as if they could both handle it, though, then Remus would consider it. He didn't question whether Teddy would want to go on with them--that seemed almost certain, and besides, from the beginning he'd made it plain that if Teddy was ever not interested in or comfortable with going on, then they'd stop.

There was still some of the chicken and pasta from last night left, but Remus decided that he wanted something else, and stopped to buy a Cornish pasty that he could bake and a premade salad. It was actually easier to get Muggle-made food than to use magic, sometimes, something that Remus still marvelled at on occasion.

He savoured the pasty, sitting at the table in his slippers and cardigan, a novel he was reading desultorily propped up beside him. If he ever started living with Sam, he'd miss this kind of freedom, he supposed, to read while he ate, and change his mind at the last minute about what and when dinner would be. But there would be compensations... companionship was not something to be dismissed lightly.

In fact, he rather missed it now--and he couldn't blame his burgeoning desire on the waxing moon, even. He shifted on his chair, adjusting his balls, and then gave up. There was no reason not to go and wank. He hadn't tried out the new plug yet, although he wasn't sure he was ready for it, given the association with Teddy. But there were other possibilities.

On his way upstairs, he remembered the Muggle magazine Teddy had bought at the sex shop. He hadn't seen which title it had been, but he had a fairly good idea of the basic subject matter. He'd never been much for magazines himself, though Sirius certainly had been--he'd kept quite the collection in a shoebox under his bed that was charmed to hold far more than one might expect from its outward appearance. Remus chuckled to himself at the memory. Sirius had been damned proud of that little bit of spellwork.

When he reached his bedroom door, Remus paused. He wondered if there was any possibility that Teddy might have some magazines stashed under his own bed, there in the room just next door to Remus's.

He shook his head. Bad idea. What good could possibly come of his discovering pornography in his son's bedroom?

 _Well_ , he rationalised, _You might be able to get an idea of what his tastes are, at least_. It was a sham of an excuse, and part of Remus recognised that, but that part fell silent as he opened the door to Teddy's childhood bedroom.

He stood just inside the door, his hand still on the knob, and inhaled deeply. The room smelled of Teddy, of dirt tracked in from the garden and of the soap that Teddy preferred, of old leather and of even older socks, with an essence running through it all that was thoroughly, indescribably _Teddy_.

Remus stepped into the room and closed the door behind himself.

There was nothing under Teddy's bed but for a few stray dust mice and an old Quidditch glove. Remus didn't feel right searching the room any further than a quick peek under the bed--and he honestly doubted Teddy had any more pornography anyway, he'd been so excited about the Muggle magazine.

Remus sat on the bed, quite aware of the reason he'd come upstairs in the first place, considering its escalating insistence between his legs. He cupped his erection and glanced all around him as if Teddy were going to step out of the shadows or emerge from the closet to shame him.

 _Possibly not the best idea you ever had_ , something in the back of his mind nagged, but Remus undid his trousers anyway, and kicked off his shoes, and lay back across his son's bed.

No one would have to know.

He reached for one of the pillows; the pillowslip smelled of detergent, but underneath he could easily detect Teddy's own aroma. _God_. He swallowed, tucking his fingers around his cock, which was still covered by his pants.

Teddy had been so eager to learn, so responsive. Unsophisticated, yes, but his enthusiasm had more than made up for any lack of technique--and that lack was the very reason why he was eager. Remus brushed his thumb over the damp spot at the tip of his cock, recalling the way that Teddy had pleaded to taste him. Remus had had to work hard to hold back his own orgasm as Teddy had sucked him off, and it had been far more difficult than he'd expected.

Impatiently, Remus pushed down his pants together with his trousers, not bothering to take them off, just to his knees so that he could touch himself bare. He rolled over onto his stomach, pushing his face against the pillow, breathing in, rubbing his prick against the duvet for a few moments before he pulled his legs up a bit to raise his arse, took himself in hand, and began to stroke.

 _Oh_ , but it was good, less guilt than when Teddy was actually there, if also less intense. Remus reached with his other hand for his arsehole. He couldn't be bothered to stop and get a bottle of lubricant, so he muttered an appropriate spell, concentrating, and felt the slickness under his probing fingertip, cool but quickly warming to his body heat. As he flirted with the tight muscle, he could almost see Teddy's pink hole in front of him, and his mouth opened and closed futilely, wanting it again.

Remus sank his forefinger all the way home and sighed. More, he needed more. He should have brought a plug, maybe not the new one, but something. He didn't want to stop now; he'd make do with his own hand. He worked in a second finger, a third, fucking himself with rough abandon, ignoring his prick for the time being. This was something he _hadn't_ yet done with Teddy, or had his son do to him, and he was suddenly glad of that.

The pressure as his fingers slid across his prostate had him panting, quivering with the need to be _fucked_ , hard, much more than usual for this time of the month. All at once he stopped and pulled his hand away. This was his house, no one else was here or going to be, and blast it, if he wanted to stop and go fetch a plug and charm it to fuck him on Teddy's bed, he could do so. Remus kicked off the clothes entangling his legs and nearly ripped his shirt removing it before he stalked along the hall.

Defying his own hesitation he chose the new plug, and brought his favourite lubricant as well, which was really more effective than the charm, especially for something of this size.

He hefted it in his hand as he stalked back down the hall towards Teddy's room, testing its weight and bulk. Yes, it was nice and big, bigger than any he'd ever owned before. It was going to _burn_ \--and he was going to _love it_.

Remus stood in front of Teddy's bed once again and filled his palm with lubricant, spreading it over the fingers of his other hand. He smiled as he pressed his fingers inside his hole, one, then a second, then a third. Oh, _yes_. This was going to be good. He'd take his time, letting the plug fuck him as he breathed in the scent of Teddy, and afterward he could lie there as long as he liked without having to regret touching his son.

Remus coated his arsehole liberally inside and out with the Muggle lubricant, then extracted his fingers and picked up the plug, coating it with a thick layer of lube as well. He tapped it with his wand, murmuring a quick spell, then lay across Teddy's bed once again, his arse in the air, his face buried in Teddy's pillow.

Slowly he inserted the plug in his arse, willing himself to relax around it, loving the stretch and burn as it filled him.

"Oh, _yes_ ," he cried into Teddy's pillow as the last of the plug finally pushed past the ring of muscle at his entrance. _Fuck_ , it was huge-- _perfect_. Panting, his prick rock-hard without his having even touched it, Remus reached back with his wand and tapped the plug again, setting the movement spell in motion.

The plug moved slowly at first, in time with Remus's own movements: his hand on his prick, his arse pushing back and thrusting forward. As he sped up a little, so did the plug, fucking him faster, and, as he muttered into the pillow as he breathed in the scent of Teddy, " _Harder_!"

He let it fuck him hard for a little while longer until he was on the brink of an orgasm that threatened to shatter him all too soon. Remus took his hand from his prick, gasping into Teddy's pillow, and slowed the thrusting of his hips as much as he could. The plug fucked him with slow, deep strokes, and Remus's eyes rolled back in his head a little when he grasped his prick again a moment later.

He _wanted_ , oh how he wanted to have Teddy fuck him like this, long and slow and hard, but it would never happen. The agreement was one lesson on penetration, and Merlin knew that there was little chance Teddy wouldn't be so aroused by the very fact that he was doing it that he wouldn't come practically right away. Even if the lesson were long enough for him to recover and try again, Remus was sure the real Teddy couldn't possibly live up to Remus's imagination. No one could. Fantasy was unmatchable by reality, wasn't it?

Remus moaned, rolling his balls in his hand. The fantasy of his son drilling into him had him sweating, but now his thoughts twisted and he imagined Teddy spread out under him, urging Remus on, willing and eager to offer up his virgin arse. If it was still virgin by then, Remus growled to himself. With the lessons on hiatus, very likely Teddy would do the natural thing and find some other boy to bed him. _No. Yes. He's_ not _yours_ , Remus insisted to himself. _Not even if he wants to be? No._

But god, Remus wanted it, ridiculously, given that two months ago he'd never have considered the idea. His hand sped up on his cock, pushing himself to the edge, but not quite enough to tip over.

He bit the pillow, worrying it, needing something, anything, to draw out the climax, when he thought he heard a sound downstairs and came helplessly, shuddering around the plug that filled him, his prick convulsing as it spilled semen across the duvet underneath him.

Still panting with the aftershock, Remus lay still, listening hard. Nothing. It had been his imagination, his own guilty conscience worrying that Teddy--or worse, Sam--might come in and find him like this, here in Teddy's room, wanking himself on Teddy's bed.

His mouth was dry and he swallowed hard as he eased the plug out of his burning arse. How could he possibly become calm enough over Teddy to finish the lessons, as he'd told himself he must be, for both their sakes--yet how could he give up the opportunity?

With a sigh he rolled over and sprawled across the bed, his legs akimbo, ignoring the wet stickiness under his back. He'd have to clean the duvet later, and the pillow, too. He stroked the plug along his spent prick, which was too sated to even twitch at the feel of the smooth rubbery substance. _It_ was _just a fantasy. Wasn't it?_

Remus was no longer sure.

He closed his eyes and took one last deep inhalation of the air in Teddy's room, the fragrance of _boy_ now mingling with Remus's own scent, then sat up, gathering his clothing and his wand, as well as the plug and the lube he'd brought in. He tossed the pillow towards the head of the bed, gazing down at the defiled duvet. The stain of his semen lay right in the centre of the bed, right where it would be if he'd been in it with Teddy--if _anyone_ had been in the bed with Teddy.

Oh, god, he was a fool. He bit his lip and turned away from the sight. He could clean the mess later--just now he couldn't think about it anymore, couldn't muster up the detachment he would need to rid the room of the evidence of his transgression.

 _A fool_ , he told himself again as he entered his own bedroom where it was cool and dark. He tossed his clothing in the hamper and put the lube and the plug--he'd clean that later, too, he supposed--on the bedside table.

Of _course_ Teddy would find someone. He was young and--Remus allowed himself to think it--bloody gorgeous, and eager besides. Who wouldn't want a boy like that? And if Teddy kept spending time with Quidditch players--oh, maybe he wasn't, but that one celebratory night after the Portree game had led Remus's mind all over the map of possibility--he was going to get fucked, sooner or later. Plain and bloody simple.

If he hadn't been already.

Remus wondered if Teddy would tell him if it did happen. No, probably not, he decided. He had a feeling Teddy wasn't going to be too keen on speaking to him at all for a while--even if all three (four? Would Teddy end up bringing a friend along after all?) of them did attend the concert together.

Remus threw on his dressing gown and mentally slapped himself. Time to get a grip. He'd clean up the mess, never do it again, and stay out of Teddy's bedroom from now on. And he'd owl Teddy when he'd cleaned up, just to test the waters. He nodded to himself and went to gather up the stained duvet and the pillow that had been in his mouth.

When he'd cleaned the items and put them back in Teddy's room (which still smelled faintly of sex, but Remus was sure the smell would dissipate by the next time Teddy came over), he made his way to his office, where he sat behind his desk and began composing a letter to his son.

_Dear Ted,_

Remus nodded to himself. Ted, not Teddy. Yes. He went on, careful to phrase his remarks so that if anyone else happened to see the letter, they wouldn't know what he referred to.

_I hope you're not too upset with me over Sunday. I made the decision that I think will be best for both of us in the long run, and I trust you understand that. I do love you very much and don't want you to be hurt. As I said then, this is intended to be temporary and we can revisit the matter in a few weeks, perhaps around Christmas. Sam and I will probably be spending the holiday together, as you've doubtless guessed, but I don't expect him to be at my house all the time, nor me at his flat. I know he'll have a lot of dinners and parties and so forth connected with his charitable work._

_Speaking of Sam, he has a student who is in a Muggle pop band and will be performing a week from Saturday. He's asked if I think you would enjoy going to see the show with us. Of course I couldn't answer for you. He also has said that you'd be welcome to bring a friend along if you'd like. So, let me know if you'd be interested, and if there is someone you would like to have come along._

Remus stopped and bit at the end of his quill. Should he urge a meeting sooner?

_You know my work schedule, pretty much; if you would have time one day soon to meet for lunch, I'd like that, but I'll understand if you're too busy. In any case I hope you'll come to this concert with Sam and me, with or without a friend, and certainly I expect you home over Christmas._

love,  
Dad

That would do, he hoped. Remus read over the letter again. Maybe it was too pushy, but he couldn't think of anything better. He made sure the ink was dry and folded and sealed the parchment. He'd take it to the Owl Post on his way to work in the morning.

For now, he'd have a cup of tea, take a stab at the crossword, and then go to bed.  



	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For their second date, Teddy goes to Andrew's flat, where they play some games.

On Wednesday, Teddy couldn't keep his mind on his work. A letter had arrived from his dad via owl post that morning, but he had woken late and hadn't had time to read it and so had just shoved it in the pocket of his robes on his way out the door. Every time he put his hand in his pocket, he was tortured with the possibilities of what the parchment might say. He promised himself he'd find time at lunch to read it, but Slug & Jiggers was so busy that day that it looked as if any lunch he did get was going to be quick and late.

To add to the anticipation that Remus's letter had brought, Teddy was eager for his date with Andrew that night. _Was_ it a date? He mulled this over as he weighed out exactly seven grams of beetles' eyes for a very particular customer.

Of course it was a date. Wasn't it? Andrew had invited Teddy to his _house_ \--they'd had _sex_ , for god's sake, and Andrew wouldn't be inviting him out again if he hadn't liked that.

Teddy's hand slipped and he ended up pouring far too many beetles' eyes into the scale; the customer scowled at him and rearranged her shopping bags.

"Watch what you're doing, young man. I happen to be a personal friend of Madame Poyt, and if she had any idea what sort of sloppy work you were doing, I'm sure she'd be rid of you in an instant! Why, in my day..."

Teddy mumbled an apology and let the old bat prattle on while he corrected his mistake. When he had sent her on her way, there was a momentary break in the stream of customers, and he told Madame Poyt he was just going to nip out quickly to get something to eat.

He ducked around the back of the building, Remus's letter clutched in his hand. He was a little ashamed to realise his cock was twitching with interest as he broke open the seal and scanned the letter's contents.

"Huh," he said aloud when he had finished. He knew it was ridiculous of him to have expected a declaration of love and desire from Remus, but he had. A bit.

He looked up at the sky, squinting. It was nearly three o'clock; he didn't get off work until five. He almost wished he hadn't read the letter--two more hours of anticipation would be better than the hours of disappointment (however foolish) that he now faced knowing the letter's contents. He couldn't even think about the concert--Andrew was the only person he'd want to bring, and he sure as bloody hell didn't much fancy having to explain to a bloke he hardly knew that they were going to spend time with his dad and his dad's _boyfriend_. Well, maybe it wouldn't faze Andrew under the circumstances, but it would be ruddy _strange_ , like a double date... and Teddy would be jealous, a little bit, that his father and Sam would be going home together. Although maybe Remus would be jealous, too.

Teddy thought about that while he hastily wolfed a cheese sandwich and then went back into the apothecary shop. Luckily it hadn't been too busy in his absence, and there wasn't much longer in the day. Madam Poyt did keep him a few minutes past five, finishing an order for a customer who'd owled it in and would be picking it up first thing in the morning, but very shortly he was on his way to the public Floo. The queue was long, but moved quickly, and before Teddy could work up too big of a case of nerves, he was stepping out of the fireplace in Andrew's flat and brushing himself off.

"Hey, Teddy." Andrew was grinning at him. "You made it."

"Yeah." Teddy smiled back. "'Course I did." He felt Remus's letter rustle in his pocket, and shoved it further down.

"Want to see the flat?" asked Andrew. Teddy nodded assent.

It was a simple place, much like Teddy's own--although tidier, and Teddy wondered if Andrew had cleaned up specially or if it was always like this--with a small living room, tiny kitchen and bath, and single bedroom. The bedroom walls had posters of Quidditch players, mostly not from the Portree team.

"I've had them for ages," Andrew explained when he saw Teddy looking. "Since before I made the reserves."

"Makes sense," said Teddy. Andrew's bed was made, covered neatly with a purple quilt. It was more than large enough for two. Teddy blushed a little, thinking that he might end up sleeping there tonight. He wondered if Andrew was expecting to have sex, _real_ sex, since they hadn't last time. He wasn't sure if he was ready for that yet, for all his bold words at the Leaky on Monday.

"Come on, want a drink?" Andrew led the way back to the living room and brought a couple of cans of lager out. "I have a cottage pie to put in the oven for dinner, but I'm not really hungry yet."

"Me, either. Didn't eat lunch until late." There were butterflies in Teddy's stomach; he tried to drown them by taking a big gulp of his beer. "Um, how was your practising today?"

Andrew nodded as he swallowed his own swig of beer. "Fair," he said, sitting on the sofa and indicating for Teddy to take a seat as well. "We ran drills all morning, which isn't my favourite thing--I'm more a fan of the strategy of the game myself. Did you ever play?"

Teddy had chosen his position on the sofa carefully. Too close and he might seem to be coming on to Andrew a bit early, too far and he might seem standoffish and cold. He crossed his ankle over his knee, feigning casualness, and took another sip of beer.

"Yeah," he said, "A bit, in school. I was never very good, honestly. Only played on the House team for a year." He felt the colour rising in his cheeks as he imparted this piece of information to Andrew, feeling as if he should've been better at Quidditch.

"Well, that's all right," Andrew said, nodding. He threw his arm over the top of the sofa so that his hand was near Teddy's head. "The point is, you know something about the game, you played."

"I tried," Teddy responded, shrugging.

"That's what I meant," grinned Andrew, and he moved a little closer and brushed his fingertips across Teddy's hair. He was blushing, Teddy could see, and it calmed Teddy's butterflies a bit to know that Andrew was probably just as nervous as he was.

"So, um," said Teddy after a brief, slightly awkward pause, "what did you have in mind for tonight?"

The blush in Andrew's cheeks flared brighter, and Teddy coughed to hide his own embarrassment. He hadn't meant it like _that_.

"Um," Andrew said, regaining his composure, "I thought, well, dinner, and maybe we could play a game or something afterwards, if you'd be up for that. Or just conversation, or really whatever--I may be good at the strategy part of Quidditch, but I've got to be honest with you, I'm shit at the strategy of a date."

Teddy's heart began to thump against his ribcage. It was _brilliant_ to hear the word _date_ fall from Andrew's lips.

"Me, too, I think," he confessed. "I haven't really much chance to practise it--different when you're still in school."

"Yeah, I remember. Which House were you in? You just finished last spring, right?"

"Hufflepuff," said Teddy, a little sheepishly, well aware that Hufflepuff was the least-admired. People might not _trust_ Slytherins, but they usually respected them. "I know you weren't one, or we'd have known each other."

"Ravenclaw, and I've been out of school for four years now," said Andrew.

"Really?" Teddy had thought Andrew was only a couple of years older than he at most, but that would explain why Andrew hadn't seemed familiar. It must be the fair hair that made him look younger.

"Mm hm." Andrew's fingers were stroking Teddy's neck very lightly now, and Teddy shivered and tilted his head a little. "I think the Sorting Hat wasn't sure where to put me."

Teddy switched his beer to his other hand and hesitantly touched Andrew's leg. Andrew made a humming sound in his throat and parted his thighs a bit more.

"I don't know that I was a typical Hufflepuff myself," said Teddy, running his thumb along the outer seam of Andrew's trousers. "I mean, I wasn't that diligent, when it came down to it. But I guess it was a better match than the others; I'm not really ambitious, or especially brave, or terribly clever, or anything."

Andrew nodded and caressed Teddy's ear, making him gasp. "The whole Sorting thing seems rather silly to me, but I guess you can't argue with tradition."

"No." Teddy finished the last swallow in his can and leaned over to put it down. As he sat back up he moved a few inches closer to Andrew and turned a little to face him. Andrew had a shy smile on his face that made Teddy want to kiss him. So he did, brushing his lips over Andrew's jaw and feeling the slight rasp of almost-invisible stubble there, then squaring around to find Andrew's mouth and coax it open, tasting the beer that Andrew had been drinking. Andrew's hand curved around Teddy's neck and pulled him closer.

Teddy sighed into the kiss as all his apprehensions about the date began to melt away and he put his arms about Andrew. His shoulders relaxed and a wave of calm washed over him, and he felt the corners of his lips begin to tug up into a smile. He tried his damnedest to make the smile stop, but he ended up smiling even harder, and it was bloody hard to kiss like that.

Andrew's shoulders began to shake, and Teddy felt a laugh bubbling up inside himself as well. He tried valiantly to hold it in, but soon he had to turn his face away for fear of laughing right in to Andrew's mouth. He ended up snorting in his efforts to control himself, which set Andrew to great peals of laughter.

"Sorry, ohgod, sorry," Teddy choked. Andrew looked like he wanted to lean in and hug Teddy, but he didn't. Teddy clapped his hand on Andrew's knee.

"Seriously," he continued, "I just--I think I really like you. I couldn't help myself."

Andrew grinned at Teddy's declaration and put his hand over Teddy's on his knee. "I think I really like you, too," he said, still smiling. "Lucky for us we've got plenty of time to figure it out." He rose and held out a hand to help Teddy up. "How about I put dinner in the oven and we'll have another beer while we're waiting for it to cook?"

"Sounds brilliant," said Teddy, and he hovered in the kitchen doorway as Andrew heated the oven, then put in the cottage pie he'd prepared--and it really looked like he'd made it himself, not bought it in a shop, for it was in a real casserole, not a cardboard takeout baking dish. Teddy was suitably impressed--though his father was an excellent cook, he'd never had the patience to learn himself. His own culinary skills extended to the heating of beans to put on toast and casting warming spells on leftover takeaway.

Andrew cracked open another couple of cans of lager and handed one to Teddy. They sat across from each other at Andrew's little table--"So we won't get distracted," Andrew said with a knowing smile. They talked about Teddy's work--a subject which Teddy thought Andrew must find exceedingly boring, but, to his credit, Andrew seemed fascinated--until the timer rang to say the pie was done, and Andrew extracted it from the oven and dished it up.

"Oh, wow," Teddy said after he'd taken his first bite. "You're a brilliant cook!"

"Thanks," said Andrew, his cheeks pink. "My mum had me helping her since I was maybe three--she said it kept me out of trouble--and I guess I just picked it up. Plus, once I was out of school, I realised how expensive it is to eat out all the time, or even to buy the pre-prepared stuff in the market. I did some calculations and figured out that if I did my own cooking, I could afford a flat on my own and not have a roommate." He ran his fingers through his fringe and gave Teddy a half-smile. "I wasn't up to negotiating with someone about the fact that I might want to have another bloke spending the night, you know?"

"Yeah," said Teddy, although that wasn't something he'd ever given much thought to. "I guess that's why I always seem to be tight on money right before payday. Maybe I should learn to cook, huh?"

"Were you any good at Potions?" Andrew asked.

"Got an O in my N.E.W.T.," Teddy told him proudly. "That's why Madam Poyt hired me, even though so far I mostly just measure and sell and sweep up. I'm supposed to get a chance to do more after the first of the year; she likes to evaluate her staff for six months before giving them more responsibility."

"Well, if you were that good at Potions, cooking ought to be easy for you if you try. It's the same sort of thing, really, following directions, although there's actually more flexibility. I like a lot of garlic and onion, but not much celery, for instance, so I change the amounts in the cottage pie to suit, plus I use marjoram and thyme instead of oregano." Andrew's voice was enthusiastic. "Um, if you wanted, maybe I could teach you how to cook some dishes that you'd like?"

Teddy snorted at the irony of Andrew offering to give him lessons--albeit cooking lessons rather than lessons in sex--but managed to turn the sound into a choke, saying, "Too big a bite, it's so good," when he stopped. "I'd like that, if you have time."

"Oh yes. Being on the reserve team, we don't practise officially as much, although of course I have to be at all the games in case one of the regular Chasers is injured and they need to call me in. So yeah." Andrew licked a stray dab of potato from his upper lip; Teddy swallowed hard, seeing that pink tongue. "I don't know, what's your favourite dish? We could start with that, maybe this Sunday."

"Erm." Teddy thought about it. "I like toad-in-the-hole."

"Great, that's really simple. It'll be a good one to start with," said Andrew with a grin.

"Brilliant." Teddy smiled and forked up the last bite of his dinner, trying not to lick the last of the potatoes from the tines of his fork. He hadn't been just being nice--the cottage pie was maybe the best he'd ever had, better than his dad's, even, and that was saying something. He suddenly wished he'd had the patience to let Remus teach him how to cook, but maybe this would be cool, learning now, and besides, it would give him more reasons to spend time with Andrew.

Not that he needed any excuses, of course, judging from the way Andrew had kissed him before--and from the way he was looking at him now across the table.

"So, um." Andrew cleared his throat. "Did you have enough?"

"Oh--yeah," replied Teddy, "It was seriously good. I wouldn't just say that, you know."

"Well, thanks." Andrew grinned and waved his wand at the dishes; they levitated and flew into the sink, stacking themselves. "I'll wash them later," Andrew said. "Did you maybe fancy a game of wizard's chess, or I've got Exploding Snap?"

Teddy laughed, sitting back in his chair. "I'm crap at strategy, unlike you, but sure, we can play. Either way I'm sure you'll beat the pants off me."

Andrew raised an eyebrow. "Exploding Snap doesn't take much strategy."

Teddy cocked his head to the side. "Well maybe you'll beat the pants off me, anyway. I--" He paused, swallowing around a sudden obstruction in his throat. "I don't see how that can be a bad thing, anyway."

Andrew bit his lip and just looked at Teddy for a long moment. Funny, it was as if he were nervous about Teddy's sexual innuendos when they both knew full well what they'd be doing later. Teddy was nervous, himself, a bit--he worried that Andrew would want to have proper, penetrative sex and that he would bollocks the whole thing up. He shouldn't have pretended he knew what he was doing, dammit.

But he brushed his worries aside for the moment and busied himself with enjoying the sight of Andrew's arse in his tight jeans as Andrew rummaged through a low cupboard that seemed to be filled with board games and packs of cards. Andrew liked games, indeed.

"Exploding Snap, then?" Andrew turned, holding a deck that looked as if it had been played with only once or twice, since Teddy could only see a few singed spots around the edges of the cards.

"Sure." Teddy was suddenly eager to play.

Andrew dealt out the cards, and they began. Teddy found himself unable to pay proper attention to the game; instead he mostly watched the way that Andrew's forehead wrinkled as he concentrated, and the way that Andrew's hands seemed to caress each card as he picked it up and discarded it on the pile.

"Snap!" Andrew called, time after time beating Teddy to it, and Teddy's pile grew larger and larger, although it was usually in his hand that the cards exploded. They played several rounds, with Andrew winning each.

"I'm sorry," Teddy apologised. "I don't seem to be able to focus tonight."

"Good thing we didn't try chess, then." Andrew cocked his head. "Something else? Have you ever played Go?"

Teddy had, but if he couldn't manage Exploding Snap, he was definitely not going to be able to do well with a game that required that level of strategy. "Maybe no more games tonight? Another time I'd love to, though."

"Okay." Andrew gathered up the cards, tapping them into a neat stack. "Um. I've some sponge cake with jam--I didn't make it, though, I didn't have time."

"That sounds good," agreed Teddy, although he wasn't especially hungry. When Andrew came to put down a plate with a slice of cake in front of him, Teddy captured his hand. "Hey."

"Hey, yourself." Andrew's voice was almost a whisper, and he cleared his throat. "Tea?"

Disappointed, Teddy let go. "Sure." He couldn't figure out what Andrew wanted. They'd been flirting before dinner, Teddy was sure he hadn't been mistaken in that, not when Andrew had flat-out said that he liked Teddy and that he thought of this as a date. They'd even kissed, for god's sake. _And_ there was what they'd done at Teddy's on Monday. So why was Andrew acting so coy now?

Andrew set a mug of tea down in front of Teddy, and Teddy was jerked out of his reverie.

"Oh--thanks." Andrew nodded in reply and sat down across from Teddy with his own mug of tea. A few sips and zero conversation later, Andrew began to squirm a little in his chair.

"Hey--Ted." Andrew cleared his throat and looked up at Teddy from under his sandy lashes.

"Yeah?" Something in Andrew's voice made Teddy want to squirm in his chair, too, but he held resolutely still and waited for whatever it was that Andrew needed to say.

"I, um. I think I need to tell you something. Before we do anything, um... anything else. Together." Andrew's eyes flicked downward again.

 _Fuck, fuck, buggering fuck!_ Teddy's mind raced. _He has a boyfriend--no--a girlfriend. Fuck--no--a_ wife _! Or he's got some horrible sexually transmitted curse that he forgot to warn me about. Shit, shit, fuck!_

Teddy took a deep breath and let it out slowly, pretending all was well. "Yeah?" Multiple syllables were beyond him at this point.

Andrew toyed with the handle of his mug, running his fingers up and down its curve over and over again. "Um, yeah. The other night, when we, um--you know. At your flat? I may possibly have led you to believe that I've done more than I actually have." He paused, still looking down at the tabletop.

 _What?_

"Wait--what?" Teddy cocked his head to the side and reached for Andrew's hand, hooking his index finger over Andrew's pinkie. "What do you mean?" Teddy's heart pounded against his ribcage.

"What we did the other night--" Andrew drew a breath and looked up, finally meeting Teddy's eyes. "It was brilliant, yeah?"

Teddy only stared, his expression incredulous. " _More_ than brilliant," he said finally.

"Good," Andrew replied. "Listen--that's actually the most I've ever done. With anyone. I mean, I've given a couple of blowjobs and stuff before, but I've never done it properly, so I don't know if you were expecting that tonight or whenever, but I don't think I'm ready to go that far yet. I thought I should maybe clear that up." He took his hand away from Teddy's grasp, sitting back in his chair, expelling a great breath as if he were awaiting his fate.

Teddy had to bite his lip to keep himself for grinning, lest Andrew think Teddy were mocking him.

"But--" he said, and he nodded frantically. "So am I! I mean, so haven't I. I mean! Hah! Um. Same, actually. Me, too. Or me neither. What you just said." He knew he was babbling, but he couldn't help himself. What a bloody _relief_ to have that off his shoulders--not to mention that Andrew didn't have a secret girlfriend stashed somewhere or a mysterious itchy spot on his prick!

"Really?" Andrew's face lit up. "I thought somehow you had done a lot."

"Nope." Now Teddy let himself grin just as widely back. "Well, I had a girlfriend in school, and we had sex a few times, but I've never done more than you have with a bloke." As soon as he said that about Victoire, he wanted to take it back, worried that Andrew might think he really preferred girls and wasn't serious about this. Well, if Andrew could be honest, so could he.

"What's it like, with a girl?" asked Andrew curiously, then flushed when Teddy stared at him. "I suppose the kissing's about the same, but I've, well. All I ever did with a girl was take her to Madam Puddifoot's and hold her hand."

"It was nice enough." Teddy shrugged. "I liked her a lot as a friend, and she's part-Veela, so that was probably why I was attracted enough to do that much. Um." He tried to think about how it had been with Victoire. "She was a good kisser. She liked her breasts touched a lot and that was fine. When we got to other things, though, I never felt like I knew what I was doing, you know, touching her down there, and when she touched me it wasn't really better than when I wanked. Maybe a little more exciting just because it was someone else, that's all."

Andrew nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah. I can understand that. So you broke up?"

"We broke up because I finished school and she still had two more years." Teddy took a sip of his tea and laughed. "I was afraid you were going to tell me that _you_ had a girlfriend, or something."

"Hardly." Andrew laughed too. He reached across the table again for Teddy's hand. "Thanks," he said simply.

"For what?"

"For not laughing when I said I hadn't done it. For not having done it either. For being you. I don't know! Just, thanks."

Keeping his eyes on Andrew's, Teddy lifted Andrew's hand to his mouth and kissed it, his lips travelling along the skin until he reached the tip of Andrew's forefinger and sucked it into his mouth. Andrew gasped.

"Ted--"

Teddy smiled to himself and ran his tongue along Andrew's finger. Andrew definitely liked this; his mouth had fallen a little open as Teddy sucked, and his eyes had fallen shut. Andrew's breath came in short bursts as Teddy continued to suck, holding Andrew's finger in one hand and running the nails of his other hand down the sensitive skin of Andrew's forearm.

Andrew shivered and pulled his finger from Teddy's mouth. "Bloody hell," he breathed, and he stood up, knocking his chair backwards. His erection tented the fabric of his trousers, and Teddy felt his own cock growing at the sight. Andrew held out a hand, and Teddy let Andrew help him up.

They embraced, their mouths tangling in a bruising kiss. Andrew thrust against Teddy, and Teddy thrust right back, proving to Andrew that he was just as aroused.

They made it as far as the sofa, taking off each other's shirts on the way and leaving them where they landed, before Teddy decided he didn't want to walk all the way to the bedroom. "Here," he gasped, and Andrew nodded, and they fell in a heap onto the cushions, their limbs tangling, still kissing each other hard.

"We don't have to do anything we haven't done before," Teddy murmured as Andrew began kissing his neck. "Let's just--" But he cut himself off with a gasp when Andrew's hand found his erection and _squeezed_ , erasing all coherent thought from Teddy's mind. "Yes, fuck yes," he babbled, and he helped Andrew take off both their jeans and shove two pairs of pants down around two pairs of ankles so that their erections slapped together, and then there was glorious friction and Andrew's mouth was on his neck, and Teddy thought he might never have been happier than he was just at that moment.

Teddy thrust up against Andrew's prick, grasping Andrew's arse with both hands, pulling his cheeks apart. He let one finger meander down Andrew's crack and graze over his arsehole, and Andrew jerked in the embrace, choking and gasping.

"Fuck, _Ted_ ," he moaned, and Teddy did it again, and Andrew's reaction was the same. He thrust hard against Teddy and arched up, then, and Teddy wanted nothing more than to come just like that, spurting his semen between their bodies, his finger teasing Andrew's hole, Andrew swearing and gasping and arching up to his touch, his back bowed, his cheeks flushed pink and staining downwards.

He was close, and he hoped Andrew was, too. The sofa cushions abraded his back and he was pouring sweat, but Teddy didn't stop moving, wanting, _needing_ , and he let out wordless little cries that might have meant something and might have meant nothing at all, and something unwound behind his belly button and then he was coming, spattering Andrew's belly and his own with his seed, thrusting mindlessly up towards Andrew's body. He pressed hard with the finger that had been teasing the rim of Andrew's arsehole, and Andrew shouted and the mess between them doubled as Andrew joined him in orgasm, crying out and collapsing on top of Teddy.

"Fuck, fuck, Ted," Andrew chanted again, and he scraped his teeth over Teddy's collarbone as the last shudders of his orgasm racked his body. Teddy's spent prick twitched between them as he held Andrew tight.

"God," he whispered into Andrew's ear, and Andrew laughed.

"No, just me. That was--"

"Brilliant," Teddy said, just as Andrew said, "Amazing."

"Yeah." Teddy nuzzled at Andrew's cheek. "You liked being touched there, I could tell."

"Mm hm." Andrew sounded a little embarrassed. "I, uh, I usually do it to myself when I wank, but it was a lot better with you."

Teddy swallowed. "I like it too. With fingers, or, um."

"Or what?" Andrew started kissing Teddy's neck, rubbing against him, ignoring the stickiness between their bellies.

"Tongue." Teddy said the word almost defiantly, shoving the thought of Remus's tongue in his arse out of his mind. "I've only done that once or twice, but it was, wow. Incredible."

"Yeah? I've never tried it," said Andrew, a note in his voice that Teddy couldn't quite decipher. "You may not have had proper sex either, but I think you _have_ done a lot more than me."

"Some, maybe," Teddy admitted. "I guess I figure that as long as both people like what they're doing, there's no reason not to try stuff that sounds like it would be fun."

"Maybe... maybe you could show me? Sometime?"

"I'd like that." Teddy ran his hands along Andrew's back, curving them over Andrew's arse. "Maybe Sunday? Or maybe even later tonight?"

Andrew's eyes were dark, dilated, as he tipped his head back to gaze at Teddy. "You wouldn't mind?"

"Not at all," said Teddy honestly. "The time I tried it, I really liked it."

"I think I might be up for it later tonight, then. I mean, if you are." Andrew shivered and bent to kiss Teddy on the mouth.

Teddy sighed into the kiss, and when Andrew had taken his mouth away, Teddy looked up at him. "I'm pretty sure I will be," he said, and he shifted under Andrew's weight.

"Night's young, and so are we," Andrew said, grinning. "Maybe right now, though, we should get cleaned up. Um--d'you fancy having a shower together?"

"Oh, _definitely_ ," replied Teddy, and Andrew peeled his sticky body from Teddy's and they made their way to the bathroom.

Andrew turned on the water and perched on the edge of the tub. "Always takes a while for the water to heat up--old building, you know? Old pipes. Shouldn't be long, though."

Teddy sat next to Andrew on the cold porcelain of the tub and they made idle conversation while the water heated up. Andrew took Teddy's hand in his and traced a spiral on his palm as they talked. Teddy shivered, remembering Remus doing the same thing to him--how long ago had it been now? He shook his head, refusing to think of his father when he was with Andrew, and he leaned in for a kiss as steam began to seep out from behind the shower curtain.

"Water's warm," Andrew said against Teddy's mouth, but they kissed a moment longer before they broke apart and got into the tub.

Teddy had never showered with anyone before--well, not _with_ anyone. He'd had group showers at school, of course, but this was hardly the same thing. At first it was awkward determining who got to stand under the spray when, but they laughed and slipped against each other's skin and washed each other's hair and nudged each other out of the way. Teddy got soap in his eyes and he shrieked, and Andrew laughed and smacked him on the arse, the noise echoing in the bathroom, and he pushed Teddy under the spray to wash the soap out.

It was brilliant, honestly, Teddy thought, maybe even more intimate than what they'd done to cause the mess they were washing off their bodies. And fun, too--though definitely not in the same way.

Andrew hopped out, telling Teddy to take his time finishing up and promising he'd bring Teddy's clothes in for him.

"Thanks," Teddy called out as Andrew whipped a towel around his waist and the door snicked shut behind him. Teddy took only a couple more minutes, as it happened, because the water was starting to grow cool. He turned off the tap and reached for the remaining towel, rubbing it briskly over his hair and then drying the rest of himself. With a glance in the mirror, he concentrated and changed his hair to flaming magenta, which Andrew had seemed to like, on Monday. He'd just finished that when Andrew was back, wearing a somewhat tatty dressing gown in orange and white, and carrying Teddy's clothes.

"Or you can borrow this," he said, holding up a rather newer dressing gown that Teddy was certain was the one Andrew usually wore.

It would be far easier to take that off than his own clothes would be, so Teddy accepted the offer with a smile and a quick brush his fingers against Andrew's. He did put on his own socks; Andrew had smaller feet than Teddy did, so he couldn't borrow any slippers.

"My mum would say, 'Now don't stay up to get dirty again,' and send me off to bed," Andrew joked as he hung the towels neatly back where they belonged.

"I'm happy to go to bed, but only if we can stay up and be dirty there," said Teddy, putting his arms around Andrew's waist from behind. "Since neither of us has to get up early anyhow."

Andrew rested his hands over Teddy's. "Sounds like a fine plan to me." He turned around and kissed Teddy, a long soft kiss that savoured every inch of Teddy's mouth. When he pulled away he leaned their foreheads together. "I'm really glad you came to the pub with Meghan on Saturday."

"Me, too." It all seemed to be happening fast, but it felt _good_ to be with Andrew, far better than anything he'd done with any of the boys at school, and he just _liked_ Andrew a lot even if he didn't know him too well yet. Teddy slipped one hand into the opening of Andrew's dressing gown, rubbing his thumb lightly over Andrew's nipple. "So let's go to bed."

They weren't quite as urgent this time, crawling under the covers after leaving Teddy's clothes and both dressing gowns on the floor--although Teddy failed to remove his socks--and running fingers lightly across each other's bodies. Andrew had a scar or three, mostly from Quidditch, and Teddy licked at them, making Andrew snort and laugh and say that it tickled, until Teddy came up for air, grinning.

"Prat." Andrew kissed him, though, and nudged his hard prick against Teddy's, using one hand to squeeze Teddy's arse, his fingertips exploring into the crack.

"Ooh, I like that," Teddy murmured against Andrew's throat, and he licked a line up Andrew's neck, urging him to continue.

"Ticklish--don't forget--" Andrew murmured, his fingers continuing their exploration of Teddy's arse, and Teddy moved away from the ticklish spot on Andrew's neck, flicking his tongue out to taste Andrew's earlobe.

One of Andrew's fingers skimmed over Teddy's arsehole, then, and Teddy arched up, caught by surprise, and he let out a little cry. Andrew grinned and shifted and did it again, and Teddy forced himself to relax, suckling at Andrew's ear, spreading himself wide for Andrew's fingers.

"D'you want me to, um--" Andrew murmured then, and it was all Teddy could manage to let out a _Hmm?_ Andrew's fingers danced across his hole, then Andrew tapped it. "Tongue? You know?"

"Ohh," Teddy said, pushing himself up on his arms to gaze down at Andrew. "Are you sure you want to?"

"I mean, I've never done it before, but I think I do. Unless, maybe, you wanted to go first?" He bit his lip, and Teddy nodded.

"Are you bloody kidding me? Roll over!" He shoved at Andrew's shoulder and the other boy rolled over, laughing. Teddy laughed, too, spreading himself out over Andrew and kissing him between his shoulder blades.

 _Laugh!_ came Remus's voice in Teddy's mind, _Have a sense of humour in bed!_ Teddy frowned and kissed Andrew's shoulders a little more frantically, alternating his kisses with little tastes of Andrew's clean skin. _Laugh!_ He heard his father's voice again. Andrew's laughter had turned into happy little groans, and Teddy groaned back, drowning out Remus's admonitions, pressing his cock between Andrew's spread thighs.

"Are you ready?" Teddy murmured in Andrew's ear, and Andrew trembled.

"I think so," he said into the pillow.

"Relax," Teddy coaxed, "and if you don't like it, I'll stop, okay?"

Andrew nodded. "'Kay." Teddy felt Andrew tense as he kissed his way down Andrew's spine towards his arse, stopping here and there to lick at a freckle or a scar on Andrew's warm skin.

Teddy paused when he was just at the top of the crack. "There's a charm, for cleanliness," he said matter-of-factly, and Andrew relaxed a bit. "Hang on--it's easier with a wand, and mine's still in my pocket." He scrambled off the bed and dug it out, then back up, bouncing a little. " _Ablue_."

"I guess that did it," said Andrew. "Feels kind of tingly?"

"Yeah." Teddy put down his wand on the night stand and started kissing along the curve of Andrew's arse, heading back to where he'd left off. Andrew murmured, his legs moving wider. Teddy rested a hand on one of Andrew's cheeks, flattening it and drawing it away from the other so that he could finally see the shy pink of Andrew's arsehole. He leaned down and just barely touched his tongue to the top of Andrew's crack, pausing to see if Andrew objected before he began to slide down, inch by slow inch.

Far from objecting, Andrew was making noises that Teddy could only interpret as delighted whimpers. Teddy grinned to himself and licked further down, until he felt the change in texture that told him he'd reached his goal. He rubbed the tip of his tongue over the tiny opening, pressing gently, persuading the ring of muscle to relax and let him in.

"Fuck, fuck, Ted," Andrew gasped as Teddy breached him. "Oh--fuck!"

Teddy used both his hands now to hold Andrew open, and licked again, sliding his tongue inside. Andrew trembled.

 _He loves it_ , Teddy exulted, sealing his lips around Andrew's hole. He brushed the back of Andrew's balls with his thumbs, for good measure, and set up a rhythm with his tongue, slithering it in and out almost as if it were his cock. He was pretty sure he couldn't keep it up for too long--already he could feel the strain--but he wanted to do the best he could, make Andrew feel wonderful.

"Ted--please--ohfuckohfuck, gonna, gonna come," Andrew babbled, his hips pushing back against Teddy's face, almost shoving him away. Teddy held Andrew's thighs more firmly, licking frantically, aware that Andrew was pumping his cock as Teddy rimmed him.

"Ohhhh!" With that cry, Andrew's arsehole contracted around Teddy's tongue, and Teddy smelled the musky-bitter smell of come.

Andrew collapsed, still murmuring nonsense, and Teddy withdrew his tongue and pressed calming kisses to Andrew's arsecheeks, stroking his skin as Andrew came down from his orgasmic high.

"God--Ted--" Andrew finally managed, and Teddy slid up so he could embrace Andrew, who was pouring sweat and trembling. Teddy brushed Andrew's sodden fringe from his face and kissed his jaw.

"So," Teddy said, his voice husky, "d'you reckon you liked it?"

Andrew laughed, one short, sharp bark, and said nothing, still panting, making an obvious effort to slow his breath.

"Thought you might," said Teddy, and he kissed Andrew's jaw again, aware that Andrew might not be up for kissing him on the mouth quite yet.

"I could--" Andrew said, and Teddy stroked his arm.

"I'd like it. If you want to." Teddy was ever mindful of the fact that he wasn't sure where Andrew's boundaries lay, and the last thing he wanted was to cross one of those invisible lines. He didn't want to push, but _god_ , he wanted to have Andrew's tongue in his arse.

Andrew nodded. "Fucking hell I want to, if it feels half as good for you as it did for me! I mean, I don't know exactly what to do, but--"

Teddy cut him off. "Just--kiss, you know? Um, use your tongue, and sort of, you know. Lick. Do what you think you'd like, what you liked me doing." He knew he sounded a bit like his father, but just then he didn't mind. "Do you maybe want me to cast the cleansing charm on myself?"

"Um--yeah, that might be good. I know _Ablue_ \--of course, I never knew a person could use it for _that_ \--but I'm shaking a bit too much right now to be any good at any spells."

"Grab my wand, then?" Andrew did, and Teddy, who would have been lying if he'd tried to say he wasn't nervous and trembling a bit himself, cast the spell. His arsehole tingled pleasantly, and he chucked his wand back at the nightstand. It promptly rolled onto the floor, but Teddy wasn't concerned about that as he turned over, presenting himself to Andrew.

It was a moment before Andrew touched him, just long enough for Teddy to worry that maybe he'd changed his mind after all, but then he felt Andrew's breath against his skin and Andrew's fingers slide sweaty along his back.

"Maybe you could kneel up a little higher?" asked Andrew, a hint of a quaver in his voice.

"'Course." Teddy pulled his knees up, raising his arse. He folded his arms and rested his forehead on them, tense with anticipation.

Andrew was kissing along his spine, the same way that Teddy had done to him, moving slowly but steadily downward.

"That feels brilliant," Teddy murmured encouragingly as Andrew's tongue touched the top of his crack.

"Good," came Andrew's voice, indistinct against Teddy's skin, and Teddy felt his own lips move in a smile.

Then Andrew pulled Teddy's cheeks a little apart and swiped his tongue in a wide wet stripe across Teddy's hole, and Teddy gasped, " _Fuck_ yeah." His prick was hard and leaking, leaving little dots of wetness on his stomach as it bounced with his swaying. "Andrew, yeah."

Andrew lapped over Teddy's hole a few more times, making grunting noises, and then he started licking in a spiral, closer and closer until the tip of his tongue slid inside. He didn't go very far in, just flickered his tongue at the entrance, but that was enough for Teddy. He bit his own arm and moaned. Andrew's hands were grasping his thighs, holding him open, so that Teddy could only move a little bit. He had to shift awkwardly to get his other arm free to reach for his aching cock.

Teddy stroked himself with a light rapid touch, matching the way that Andrew was tongue-fucking him. He didn't even try to hold back, but let the orgasm pour through him like a river, gushing out in thick spurts. Andrew slowed and stopped as Teddy came, holding him, his face pressed against Teddy's arse.

"Wow. That was--wow," said Teddy dazedly when it was over. "You're really good at that."

"You said to do what I thought I'd like, so I did." Andrew crawled up the bed and lay facing Teddy, running one finger through the mess on Teddy's stomach. He lifted it to his mouth and sucked. "It didn't taste bad."

Teddy watched, fascinated, as Andrew sucked Teddy's come from his finger. He'd never even thought of doing that before, just swallowed some if he'd sucked someone off. "And--what about that?" he managed, indicating Andrew's finger.

"That tastes brilliant," said Andrew around his finger. He put his whole hand on Teddy's stomach, then, right in the mess, and spread his fingers wide. He began massaging the come into Teddy's skin, moving his hand in slow, wide circles. It was brilliant, but it was almost too much--Teddy was still ultra-sensitive after coming and he shivered and tried not to squirm as Andrew continued the massage.

Andrew kissed him, then, right near his mouth, and Teddy turned and embraced Andrew, pressing their bodies flush against each other. They tangled their legs together, and Teddy found it harder and harder to keep his eyes open.

"You going to sleep?" Andrew mumbled after a few minutes.

"Hmm. No," Teddy lied, his breathing steady, his eyes completely closed.

"Liar." Andrew's voice was sleepy, too, and he rubbed Teddy's back lightly with his hand, just a few circles before his body began to fall limp against Teddy's.

The next thing Teddy knew, it was morning, and someone was snoring.

He rolled over and rubbed the crust from his eyes, regarding his bed partner. Andrew's hair stuck out in all directions and he lay sprawled on his back. His mouth hung open and the noise he was making could have rattled the roof off the building, Teddy thought.

He kicked Andrew. Maybe not the most polite action, in retrospect, but Teddy had never been one of those gracious morning-person types.

Andrew, for his part, snuffled and rolled over and blinked several times, moaning. "Oh--hey, Ted. Fuck, was I snoring?" he slurred.

Teddy nodded. "Only a little," he lied. He did have _some_ manners, after all. His father always prodded him about that.

"Sorry." Andrew yawned and curled up next to Teddy, draping one arm over him. "My dorm mates always complained about it. I used to have to put a silencing spell on my bed curtains."

"'S all right." Teddy wriggled against Andrew, whose morning erection prodded into Teddy's thigh. Teddy ran his tongue around his mouth; pretty rank, he supposed, not that Andrew's was likely to be better. "What time is it, can you see?"

"Um--eight-thirty or so. You have to work at noon?"

"Yeah, noon today. And I should probably go home first and change; Madam Poyt insists on proper attire," said Teddy. The skin of his stomach felt all wrinkled and tight, and he realised that he still had dried come smeared over him. "And shower first, too."

"You can shower here, but there's time for this, isn't there?" Andrew's voice was coaxing and his hand slithered over Teddy's hip and down to his cock, which reacted immediately.

"Can't see why not." Teddy rolled over towards Andrew and started to touch him in return. "Hey." He kissed the hollow of Andrew's throat. "No better way to wake up."

"Nope." Andrew's breath _was_ a little stale, but not too bad. Teddy thrust harder against his hand, feeling Andrew speed up as well. It wasn't long before they'd both come, grinning.

"Not as good as last night, but _that_ was pretty special," Andrew said. "Let me shower first, then I'll make us something to eat while you wash, okay?"

"Okay." Teddy sprawled out in Andrew's bed for a few minutes, listening to the sound of the running water. When he heard it stop, he found his wand on the floor and charmed the bedclothes clean--getting rid of the worst of the stains, anyhow--before he gathered up his clothes and trailed down the hallway to find Andrew towelling his hair dry.

"Eggs and toast?" Andrew asked, swatting Teddy's bare arse playfully.

"Sure, whatever you want." Teddy reciprocated. "I'll only be a few minutes."

The shower was a luxury, and Teddy stayed in a while longer than he meant to. When he emerged, the flat was filled with breakfasty smells and Teddy's stomach rumbled. He threw on his clothes and towelled his hair into a semblance of dryness--he could fix it properly once he got home, he supposed--and found Andrew already seated in the kitchen, attacking a plate of eggs.

"Sorry," Andrew said with a sheepish grin when Teddy came in, "I was too hungry to wait. There's a plate there by the stove and eggs in the pan, and toast as well." Teddy filled his plate and sat across from Andrew. Something rustled in his pocket when he sat down--oh. Remus's letter. Well.

Teddy shovelled eggs into his mouth--he was as hungry as Andrew, apparently--and when he'd satiated the initial hunger pangs, he took the crumpled parchment from his pocket and held it up.

"Um," he said, "My dad's invited me to a concert Saturday next. He wanted to know if I would be bringing someone." He left the question hanging in the air, unasked.

"What kind of concert?" asked Andrew. He got up to take more scrambled eggs for himself from the pan.

"Some Muggle pop group, I think," Teddy replied. "A friend of my dad's gives voice lessons--I guess it's one of his students. He never did tell me the name. It might be boring, but maybe, if you wanted--?"

"With your dad?" Andrew's voice was neutral, but Teddy suspected apprehension behind it.

"Well, with my dad and his... his boyfriend, actually." The word was heavy on Teddy's tongue. It was weird saying it in front of Andrew, even if he wasn't referring to their relationship.

"I..." Andrew paused, looking down at his plate.

"You don't have to come," Teddy said in a rush. Shit. Now he felt stupid, all right.

"No, I--that'll be nice." Andrew didn't sound entirely convinced of himself.

"You're sure?"

Andrew nodded. "Yeah. We can do that. Owl me the details?" Andrew shoved the last of his breakfast into his mouth and rose, putting his plate and fork in the sink. He downed the rest of his tea standing by the table, and Teddy took this as his cue to finish and get moving.

"I had a really good time," Teddy said, touching Andrew's arm. "I'll find out more about that concert and owl you, and maybe we can get together this weekend?"

"Probably not." Andrew grimaced. "Match on Saturday, and there's a reserve-team match on Sunday, too."

"No time after the Saturday match?" Teddy was disappointed.

"I don't think so. It's against the Harpies and those almost always run long, and with the Sunday morning match... Wish it weren't so. Sometime next week though, maybe? I'll find out."

"Okay. I'll send that owl tomorrow, probably."

"Great." Andrew still sounded a little reserved, but he bussed Teddy on the cheek. "Did you need the Floo, or are you Apparating?"

"Easier to Apparate, going home," said Teddy. "See you soon." He raised his hand in a farewell salute and concentrated hard, feeling the familiar disorientation as his own flat appeared around him.

Remus had hinted that Teddy could meet him for lunch, Teddy recalled as he quickly changed into clean clothes. Well, that wouldn't work today, since Teddy's break would be in late afternoon, but maybe he could drop in at the bookstore and find out more about the concert then. It would be awkward, seeing his father, but it might be better that way, in public.  



	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus is glad to reach a fragile peace with Teddy, and enjoys Sam's method of relaxing him.

Remus was beginning to look forward to leaving at the end of the day when the bell on the door tinkled. Automatically he glanced up to greet the arriving customer and was startled to see Teddy there, his hair ordinary brown today--well, he was probably on a break from work, wasn't he?--and his head turning as he searched for Remus, his face taking on a look of determination as he spotted him over in the Self-Help section, kneeling as he reshelved a book.

"Hi, Dad."

"Hello, Ted." Remus stood, his knees popping. "What's up?"

"I wanted to know about that concert you suggested." Teddy's face was very faintly flushed. "Do you know the name of the band? And what time the concert is?"

"I can find out from Sam, if you're interested," said Remus, his heart leaping treacherously.

"Yeah, I might be." Teddy shifted. "Might have someone who'd like to come along, too."

"Oh?" Remus tried to keep his voice steady. "A friend from school?"

"No, a bloke from the Portree reserves. Chaser. He was at the pub last weekend." Teddy opened his mouth as if to say more, then shut it again.

"I'm sure that would be fine," said Remus, quelling the urge to demand just what Teddy had been doing with this boy. Man. Whatever. His mind presented him with a totally unwelcome image of Teddy's face tipped back and shining in ecstasy as a faceless male figure pounded into him.

Remus cleared his throat and moved through the aisles to the Herbology section, levitating the stack of books he was reshelving behind him. Teddy followed, his hands in his pockets. Remus could feel Teddy's eyes on him, but he was determined not to look at his son as he continued with his task.

Finally Teddy cleared his throat. "Um, so, I thought that maybe, if you're not busy, we could have dinner tonight? Just-- _just_ dinner. You know. Dad."

Remus paused, a book on Mimbulus Mimbletonia in his hand, and he looked at Teddy, trying to determine what the boy's motivations could be.

 _Shame on you_ , he told himself after a moment, _he just wants to see his dad, and maybe make up for the unpleasantness on Sunday. That's all._

"Your hair looks nice like that," he said, putting the book in its proper place on the shelf. He straightened up and turned to look at Teddy, putting his hands on his hips and nodding. "All right," he said, "We can have dinner tonight. I had a lasagne ready to put in the oven when I got home, but I imagine you'll want to eat out somewhere?" Remus wasn't quite ready to have Teddy over to the house again.

To Remus's great relief, Teddy nodded.

"Yeah, Dad. Wherever you like. I don't care."

It was unlike Teddy to take such a disinterest in food--when someone else was providing it, that was; Remus had seen the sorry contents of Teddy's cupboards--but Remus decided that his lack of enthusiasm was just Teddy's way of proving how cool and detached he could be.

"Well, Ted, I'll be here until five-thirty or so, and I suspect you'll be done around the same time, yes?"

Teddy nodded. "I'll come by as soon as I've finished."

Remus chose a Wizarding restaurant for their dinner on purpose--they'd likely see people they knew, and that way, he hoped, the conversation would stay light.

"How's work?" he asked, after the waitress had taken their order.

Teddy shrugged. "Pretty much the same as always. Madam Poyt's supposed to start me on actually mixing some of the basic potions we sell in January, though, and that should be more interesting." He picked up his fork and put it down again.

"That's good. I know that was part of the reason you took the job at the apothecary to begin with," said Remus, trying to think of something else innocuous to ask.

"Mm hm." Teddy didn't seem too inclined to help the conversation along, looking down at the table, then up at Remus through his eyelashes. Still brown, they were, although Remus had rather expected Teddy to have changed his hair colour to one of the bright shades he preferred, now that he was off for the day.

"I won't be able to let you know about the concert until Saturday, or more likely Sunday," Remus floundered on. "Depends on how soon I can get an owl to Sam and hear back from him."

"Won't you be seeing him? I figured you would, on Friday night at least."

"Probably, but he has a lot of events he has to go to at this time of year, with the holidays coming up. Fund raising, that sort of thing."

It was a relief when their starters came and they could find distraction in eating. Remus kicked himself mentally as he dug into the calamari, which was delicious. _This is ridiculous. The two of you have always had plenty to talk about._

"How is that? What did you get again?"

"Garlic prawns." Teddy put one in his mouth, and a streak of butter ran down his chin. He licked at it and laughed. "Want one?"

"I'd love one," said Remus. Rather than have Teddy offer to feed it to him, though, he reached over with his own fork and transferred the dripping morsel to his plate. "Care for some squid?"

"Ew," Teddy replied, turning up his nose, but he smiled, and Remus found himself smiling back.

"What do you know about calamari? You've never tried it!"

"It's _squid_ , Dad. _Squid_. Slimy, tentacle-y. Like the one in the lake at Hogwarts. I can't imaging eating putting that revolting thing in my mouth!" Teddy laughed and popped another prawn in his mouth as if to rid himself of the imaginary slime from the Giant Squid.

"Mmm, not slimy at all," Remus said, spearing a ring with his fork and waving it back and forth. It wasn't exactly good table manners, but he and Teddy were on the verge of casual conversation and a good time, and he wanted to help it along as much as he could. "Crispy, light... garlic aioli..." He dipped the ring in the sauce and pushed his fork at Teddy.

Teddy pretended to protest for another moment, finally taking the fork from Remus and eyeing it.

"Okay," he said, "But if I do this, then you owe me a favour later." Remus's heart leapt when Teddy said that--ridiculous. It was just something to say. Of course Teddy didn't mean anything by it.

He watched Teddy chew, his nose upturned at first, then he swallowed and nodded. "Okay, you win. It's edible." He reached across the table to take some more, but Remus stopped him, laughing.

"Get your own, Teddy Lupin!" They engaged in a mock wrestling match over the fork, and when their hands touched, Remus's heart kept still. This could only be a good thing.

The rest of the meal passed without incident, and the conversation grew more relaxed as the evening went on. It felt like they were father and son--and _only_ father and son--once again.

"Guess I'd better be getting home," said Remus, waving their waitress down so that he could pay.

"Me too. I have to work early tomorrow." Teddy smiled. "Have to pay the rent, you know."

"I know, believe me." Remus's reply was heartfelt, having spent many years of his life either under- or unemployed. "Ted? I'm glad you were able to have dinner with me tonight."

Teddy's expression went a little wary, but he answered readily enough, "So am I. And you'll let me know about the concert next weekend?"

"As soon as I find out from Sam, yes." Remus counted out the requisite number of Sickles and stood up. "I'll tell him you're bringing a friend, too. I'm sure he can get four tickets, but he'll need to know he has to."

When they had exited the restaurant, with a pause on the way for Remus to say hello to a couple of witches he knew, good customers, Teddy gave Remus a quick hug. "Thanks, Dad. I'll see you soon." He hurried off, and Remus followed more slowly. It had been disconcerting, no question, to find out that Teddy already seemed to be seeing someone new, seriously enough that he'd ask him to go to a concert with his dad. But given that Remus _hadn't_ felt the tug of desire when Teddy had touched him--maybe it really was just ordinary paternal concern that Teddy was leaving the nest.

He did wonder about this other man, this reserve Chaser. Teddy hadn't said a name, and Remus certainly didn't follow Quidditch closely enough to have any idea who it could be. He hoped it was someone near Teddy's own age, though.

Sam sent an owl in the morning, saying that he had a dinner he had to go to that night, but would Remus still want to see him if he came over around ten?

 _Of course_ , Remus scribbled in reply. He'd have the lasagne he'd postponed and read one of the novels he'd picked up from the table of remainders, written by a Muggle actor; something about an artist, as he recalled. It sounded moderately promising, and in any case ought to distract him for a couple of hours.

At ten past ten, Remus put the book down with a sigh. God, what tiresome people Muggles could be sometimes. He wondered vaguely if the book could possibly be worth finishing, and decided he might come back to it on the night that it happened he'd read every other book that had ever been published. Or at least every other book that he owned, including the copy of Gilderoy Lockhart's _Gadding with Ghouls_ that he had no idea how he had acquired.

He rose and took his empty teacup and saucer into the kitchen, hoping Sam would arrive soon. It was later than he'd said he'd be there, and besides, Remus needed a distraction from the rigours of that blasted Muggle book.

There was a muffled noise from the living room. Remus smiled to himself, rinsed his teacup, and turned around. Sam had already made his way from the Floo into the kitchen and was brushing ash from his cloak onto Remus's tiled floor.

"Oh--" Remus said, biting off the curse that nearly fell from his tongue. "The ash," he finished lamely, mentally chiding himself for such an inhospitable greeting.

"Oh, bloody hell," said Sam. "Damn. Sorry. I'll sweep it up in the morning, okay? Hi."

"Hi," said Remus belatedly. He knew he could rid the floor of the ashes with a quick flick of his wand, and he did, then, but that didn't make Sam's offer any less endearing.

"You've been spending time with Muggles," Remus said, "I can always tell. Sweep the floor, indeed." He smiled and went to Sam, embracing him, breathing in the wild scent of the cold wool of Sam's winter travelling cloak. Sam was always extra cautious when he was to be interacting with Muggles. In his younger days, any slip-ups could be put down to a rock star's eccentricities, but now he had to present a somewhat more normal face when he went out into the Muggle world, and he overcompensated to the point where he sometimes brought Muggle ideas back with him quite by accident.

Sam laughed. "I know," he said, "I'm ridiculous." Remus held Sam for a moment longer, then let go and helped him off with his cloak, hanging it on a hook by the kitchen door alongside his own.

"Tea?" he asked.

Sam seemed to consider the offer, then shook his head. "No, thanks--I don't want to be awake all night."

Remus put the kettle on anyway. "I've got herbal," he said, and Sam finally assented.

When the kettle boiled, Remus rinsed out the teapot, put in the tea--a chamomile blend--and then poured on the boiling water. He set the pot on the table and brought out cups, then sat down across from Sam.

"How was your dinner?"

Sam pulled a face. "Worthwhile, I suppose, but the food was terrible and the company not much better. You'd think I'd be used to it by now."

"Are you still hungry?" Remus asked with concern. "I had lasagne and there's plenty left over, if you want some."

"No. But thanks. I ate, it just wasn't very good. White fish in a cream sauce, completely tasteless, the salad was wilted... you know what bad catered meals can be like, I'm sure."

Remus shrugged. "Not really. I've almost never had them. Apparently I'm not missing much." He poured out the tea and passed a cup over to Sam.

A smile tugged at Sam's lips as he took a sip. "Well... I was going to ask if you wanted to come to one or two with me, next month, but maybe I shouldn't?"

"Are you sure?" Remus had always thought Sam preferred to be discreet about the fact that he was queer. Given that he didn't regularly appear in public with women, there were doubtless plenty of people who guessed, but that was different from bringing another man to a social event. Remus wasn't sure himself how open he wanted to be, and he wasn't a public figure, not almost two decades after the Battle of Hogwarts.

"Yes. There are a couple that are less formal; not the two-by-two dining, but more like cocktail parties. If you're not interested, I'll understand--they're fund raisers, not fun times," said Sam.

"I think... I might try going to one, anyhow," said Remus slowly. If Sam felt deeply enough about him to ask...

"Good." Sam twined the still-cold fingers of his left hand through Remus's right. "Then I'll be sure of at least _some_ decent conversation."

Remus laughed. "I hope I can meet your expectations."

"You always do," Sam assured him, his thumb stroking over Remus's knuckles.

Remus only smiled and looked down into his teacup. His head was full of questions for Sam and his heart was racing, but for the time being, he thought he'd just shut up and enjoy the moment.

Sam gave his hand a squeeze, then pulled away, raising his teacup to his lips. "And what about the concert next Saturday?" he asked. "Do you think you'll be able to come with me?"

"Absolutely," said Remus, "and I think Teddy's coming, too... with a friend."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Yes. He came into the shop yesterday to ask some questions about the concert, and he mentioned he'd be bringing someone along--someone he met at the pub after the Quidditch match we all attended together." Remus did his best to sound casual about the whole thing. "I'm not actually sure what the boy's name is, and Teddy was pretty close-mouthed on the topic, but I suppose we'll all meet each other on Saturday."

Sam looked at Remus for a long moment. "You sound surprisingly okay with this," he finally said.

Remus considered this. "I think maybe I am," he replied, "though honestly, I'll have to wait until Saturday to be sure." He laughed. "I'll probably kill the little punk if he tries to set a hand on Teddy. You'll have to restrain me."

Sam laughed, too. "Just as long as that's not the day before the moon," he said.

"It's not." Remus was able to reply quickly. He'd had to become good at memorising full moons many years ago, and he often resented how cavalier Sam could sometimes act about the moons--as if it were merely an inconvenience for Remus, a few aches and pains once a month. Certainly he was loving afterwards, but Remus often wondered what Sam would think, and how he would act, if he had any idea of what the transformation was really like. Part of him wanted Sam to know, but the other part hated the idea of anyone seeing him so undone.

"So no tearing the boy limb from limb, even if he is a punk," Sam said, and Remus took a breath and nodded, smiling, determined not to let his train of thought ruin the nice moment they'd been having.

"I promise. Speaking of punk, though, I'm sure it's not a punk band, but Teddy did ask if I knew the name of the group, and I didn't. I suppose he might know them and that's why he's curious. Or maybe he wants to get an album and listen first."

"Let me think... the Screaming Meemies, I believe it is." Sam rolled his eyes. "I don't know where they come up with these names."

"They can be pretty peculiar," agreed Remus, "but I suppose it's a way to be memorable. And isn't it the music that counts, in the end?"

Sam gave a bark of laughter. "Only partly. Promotion counts for a _lot_ , far more than you might think. Talent might get a person a shot in the first place, but unless the company thinks that the overall sound and look is marketable, that's as far as they'll go. It's grown worse over the years, especially in the Muggle industry, but it's almost impossible for a Wizarding musician to make a living and not cross over to some extent."

"Guess you're glad you got out when you did, then," said Remus.

"Oh yes. For many reasons." Sam set down his teacup and pushed it away. "I enjoyed performing, mostly, but I think I'm better at what I do now."

"Even though you have to socialise with boring potential charity donors, instead of being sought after by groupies?" Remus teased him gently.

"Don't need any groupies, not any more, not having you." Sam's eyes were bright, and a flush of warmth spread through Remus.

"That's nice to hear... although I could pretend to be one, if you wanted. 'Ooh, Stubby! You're so brill!' And toss my underwear at you." Remus grinned.

"You're welcome to toss your underwear at me," said Sam, "although I'd rather you did it here and not in public. In fact..." He stood up and came around behind Remus, leaning over to rub their cheeks together. "That sounds like an excellent idea, if you're interested."

"Mm," said Remus, nuzzling back. He glanced at the clock, which indicated that it was almost eleven. "It's a bit late, but I think I'm persuadable. Can you stay tonight?"

"Of course. And you know what, I'm going to drag you to Madam Malkin's tomorrow and make you choose a dressing gown to keep at my flat."

The warmth that had spread through Remus spread further still. "All right," he murmured as Sam pressed a kiss to his neck. He stood and embraced Sam for a long moment, then squeezed his hand. "Let's go upstairs."

"Promise you'll toss your underwear at me?" asked Sam, giving Remus's arse a squeeze.

Remus laughed and squeezed back. "They may be somewhat less frilly than the ones you're used to, Stubby, but they'll have to do."

"Ooh, up for roleplaying tonight, are we, perhaps?" Sam's voice had a cautious edge to it.

"Perhaps," said Remus, though he felt a bit uneasy at the prospect, having never done it before. He did doubt his own acting abilities. "But not Professor Lupin and the Naughty Gryffindor."

"And not Stubby Boardman and the Screaming Fan, if you don't mind," said Sam. "I'm serious--you're the only fan I actually care about. I don't need--or want--to relive those days."

Remus nodded as they started up the stairs. "Did you have something particular in mind?"

He could have sworn Sam blushed, though the stairway was too dark to be able to tell for sure. "Um," Sam stammered, "there's an idea I've been thinking about--and you can say no--"

"I know," Remus interjected.

"Okay." They had reached the top of the stairs. Remus turned to go into the bedroom, but Sam stopped him. "Let's go in there when we're ready, okay?" Remus assented, and Sam continued.

"I was thinking that perhaps--have you ever had a massage? An actual proper massage, I mean, not one of my half-arsed backrubs."

"No," Remus admitted, though he'd often have loved to be able to indulge so after a long day at work--or after a full moon, when every muscle in his body felt as if it would never feel good again.

"I can't get them anymore--I used to love to, but I always end up getting hard, and that's just embarrassing for everyone involved. So I thought maybe if you wanted to, I could, ah, be your masseuse for the evening?"

"Masseuse?" Remus asked a little incredulously. "Like, a girl?"

"No." Sam turned red. "I meant masseur. Sorry, slip of the tongue."

Remus wondered about that for a moment. Maybe Sam did fancy dressing in women's clothes occasionally... and if he did, why not? It wasn't as if Remus objected to women; he'd been married to one. He just preferred men, on the whole, and he definitely preferred Sam. "I don't care which," he said, putting his arms around Sam, "and I'd love to have you for my masseur _or_ masseuse."

"I don't know how good I'll be, but I'll do my best," Sam replied, avoiding the issue. "You have some oils and things, right? And I can transfigure the bed into a proper massage table temporarily."

"I _think_ I have some oils that would work. I'll show you and you can decide. They're in the bedroom, though," said Remus, and this time Sam allowed himself to be tugged into the room.

As Sam transfigured the bed, and moved it and a couple of lamps around to be where he wanted them, Remus rummaged through his special drawer to see what he might have by way of massage oils. Mostly he had gel-based lube, which probably wouldn't be suitable, but there were a couple of bottles of oil shoved towards the back.

"How about these," he began to say, turning, but Sam was already close behind him, looking over Remus's shoulder at the rest of the items in the drawer. Remus heard him breathe in sharply.

"That's... quite a collection you have."

Remus swallowed. He'd never talked with Sam about his toys. "I've picked them up over the years. Didn't know if you'd be interested."

"I might be." Sam's hand hovered over one of the plugs. "Oh, yes. But another time. You found some oil?"

"Yes." Remus showed the bottle to Sam, who uncapped it and sniffed at it.

"This should do."

"All right," replied Remus. "Should I--"

Sam cleared his throat. "Please go ahead and get undressed, Mr Lupin, and make yourself quite comfortable up on the table--you see there's a sheet provided for modesty. I'll just be in the hallway; I'll give you a moment and I'll knock before entering."

"Oh," said Remus, "All right." He began to unbutton his cardigan as Sam turned to leave the room. He was definitely a little disconcerted by the abrupt beginning of the game, but he could see how this might be fun, after all. And even if he didn't enjoy the roleplaying, well, he would at least get a massage out of the deal--with oil!

He undressed, folding his clothing and setting the neat stack upon the bureau, and sat on the table for a moment, trying to orient himself within the game. There was a knock on the door, then, and he moved quickly, slipping under the sheet and lying on his stomach, playing the part of the unsuspecting customer.

"Mr Lupin?"

"Ah--yes. Yes, come in." Remus's own voice sounded strange to his ears as he spoke through the face hole.

Sam closed the door softly behind himself and Remus didn't hear a single footfall as Sam crossed the floor to stand beside the transfigured massage table.

"I'll warm the oil between my hands before we begin," said Sam, "and I'll let you know before I place my hands on you."

Remus smiled, knowing Sam couldn't see his face. Sam was really getting in to his character. It was endearing. "All right, thank you."

"I'm going to touch you now, Mr Lupin." Remus rearranged his face into a mask of calm, supposing that he should make some attempt to get into character himself.

And then Sam's hands were on his back, spreading oil across it and working it into his skin with sure, fluid motions. Remus let out a long breath, one he felt he'd maybe been holding in for years.

"Yes, please just relax, and if you find anything at all uncomfortable, don't hesitate to let me know," Sam said.

Remus couldn't really nod, with his head held in place by the face rest, so he said, "Yes," aloud.

Sam began to knead his way along Remus's spine, one vertebra at a time, searching out and soothing every tight muscle as he went. Once or twice he paused to add more oil to his hands. Remus melted into the table, or so it felt, as Sam worked. Even the few scars on his back for once didn't seem to feel any different from the rest of his skin.

He'd lost all track of time when Sam said, "That's all for the back, at the moment. I'm going to work on your right arm next, then the left." He spread the sheet up over Remus's back, leaving his arms uncovered.

"Okay," murmured Remus, as Sam began. Sam's fingers brushed against Remus's armpit, and he flinched. "Ticklish there."

"I apologise." Sam was careful to keep away from the sensitive spot after that, his thumbs digging into Remus's muscles, hard enough to be not exactly painful, but very intense.

"Legs now," said Sam as he let Remus's left arm go, repositioning it gently on the table.

Having heard Sam say that he usually got hard when given a massage, Remus had half-expected the same to happen to him, but all through Sam's work on his back and shoulders and arms, Remus had merely felt deliciously relaxed. When Sam began on his legs, however, matters changed. Not the calves, but both Remus's feet and his thighs proved susceptible to Sam's touch, and his prick responded accordingly.

"That's _very_ nice," said Remus hoarsely, trying both to stay in character as a client, and also convey to Sam that he was indeed becoming aroused. Sam was working on his left thigh, hands slippery with the oil, the smell of which was also contributing to the sensual atmosphere. Remus began to wish that the sheet, now draped down his back, over his arse, and between his legs, might somehow slip so that Sam might massage his arsecheeks, or even touch the backs of his balls.

"Thank you, sir," Sam replied.

Remus reached down between his legs to adjust his prick, which was trapped at an uncomfortable angle between his body and the table and growing harder. Sam didn't pause in his ministrations, but kept working his hands over Remus's thigh, moving higher and higher.

"If I could have you turn over and lie on your back, please, sir," came Sam's voice. Remus made to comply, then paused. Right. He should remain in character.

"Ah," he said, unmoving, "I--don't think I can at the moment."

"Is everything all right, Mr Lupin?" asked Sam. He placed his hand, palm down, fingers together, in the centre of Remus's back, and heat seemed to radiate from it.

Remus coughed and adjusted himself again.

"Er, yes. I just--I seem to be having a bit of a problem, ah, down here."

"Oh, I see," came Sam's voice. He began to move his hand in little circles on Remus's back. "Don't worry, sir. That happens to more clients than you might expect. Now, may I have you on your back, please? I'll begin the second half of your massage, starting with your chest."

"My chest," Remus repeated, "Right." He steeled himself with a breath and was surprised afterward to realise that he hadn't had to tell himself to stay in character--he was really getting into Sam's idea.

He turned himself over on the table and lay on his back, and Sam draped the sheet over him once again. Remus's prick tented the sheet, but Sam pretended to pay it no notice as he began massaging Remus's chest, still using the oil. Remus was a little worried that the hair on his chest might get tangled and pinch, but soon he felt himself relaxing again under his masseur's unexpectedly talented touch.

Sam smoothed his hands down Remus's sides, careful to avoid going anywhere near his ticklish armpits. Remus's erection had flagged a bit while Sam massaged his chest, but it sprang back to its full erect state when Sam folded the sheet back just enough to expose the tops of Remus's hips and slid his hands along there.

"Are you still, ah, _uncomfortable_ , sir?" Sam asked, and Remus squirmed.

"I'm afraid so." If it weren't Sam, but a stranger, he'd have been mortified; even as it was he felt somewhat discomfited.

"As I said, it's not uncommon. Do you want me to continue?" Sam rested his hands on Remus's outer thighs, unmoving.

"Er... yes, I suppose I do." It _did_ feel wonderful, and Remus might as well let this play out to the end. He was surprised that he wasn't yawning, but although he was relaxed he felt very awake, despite the late hour.

"Very well." Sam poured more oil on his hands, rubbing them to warm it, and began to give long slow strokes along Remus's thigh. Here he didn't dig into the muscles as he'd done on Remus's back; there was a little of that, but it was more simply gentle pressure. Remus moved his other leg away as Sam's fingers massaged the inside of his thigh, but Sam ignored the implicit invitation, continuing to move down Remus's leg to his shin and at last his foot. Then he returned to do the same on the other leg.

Remus had by then given up hoping that Sam might be anything less than professional during the game, and simply enjoyed the sensations while trying to ignore the urgency of his prick. He'd closed his eyes, and was surprised when he heard Sam say, "Mr Lupin?"

"Yes?"

"I'm finished, sir."

"Oh," said Remus, a little regretfully, opening his eyes. "Well, it was wonderful. Thank you."

"Unless..." Sam had walked back up towards Remus's head, redraping the sheet over him but letting a hand rest on Remus's hip.

"Unless what?"

"For special clients I sometimes offer an additional service," said Sam, his eyes steady on Remus's.

Remus licked his lips. "I'd be very happy to accept whatever services you're willing to offer."

A smile flickered across Sam's face. "Wonderful. Mr Lupin, I wonder if you'd mind if I removed your sheet?"

"Not at all," said Remus, and Sam slipped the sheet from Remus, dragging it across his cock. Remus choked a little at the friction he'd been craving, and he closed his eyes, thrusting his hips up ever so slightly, waiting for Sam's touch.

"I hope you don't mind me saying so, Mr Lupin, but it's been enjoyable massaging you, and I'm quite glad you accepted my offer. You have a wonderful body and--" Sam dragged a hand along where Remus's thigh met his groin. "And you have a very nice cock, too."

The cock that was the subject of discussion twitched, and the hairs on Remus's thighs stood on end as Sam trailed his fingers back up along the same path.

"Ah," Remus said, "thank you very much." There was something so deliciously wrong about being exposed like this, discussing his body so openly and, as had happened so far, clinically. The thought flickered across his mind again that he'd have been deadly embarrassed if anyone but Sam had him spread out like this on a table, nude and erect and awaiting whatever touch might be bestowed upon him.

Remus shivered under Sam's gaze.

"I'd quite like to touch your cock, Mr Lupin." Remus closed his eyes again and shuddered. Sam's polite tone struck something deep inside him, and Remus struggled with it for a moment--he refused to allow himself to see exactly what it could be. He opened his eyes again a moment later and nodded.

"I'd quite like that myself." He could see that Sam was hard, too, openly palming himself through his trousers.

"Perhaps," Remus said, directing his gaze not at Sam's face, but at the bulge between his legs, "you might be more comfortable if you took off your own clothing."

"Oh," said Sam, "I--well, it's not something I've been asked to do before, honestly," he said, as his breath came in short puffs. "Are you certain, Mr Lupin?"

"Absolutely," replied Remus. "Why don't you do it right here, so I can watch you?"

"If that's what you would like, sir." Disregarding his oily hands, Sam began to unbutton his shirt--he'd discarded the jacket before beginning the massage--starting with his cuffs, then going from neck to navel, slipping each button out of its hole and letting the crisp white cotton sag open.

Remus watched, dry-mouthed. Sam's chest was nothing he hadn't seen before, of course, but somehow the deliberateness of the unveiling, after Sam's careful efforts to remain in the character of the masseur, made the sight extra erotic. As Sam slipped his arms out of the sleeves, he turned slightly, and the dim glow from the lamps emphasised the muscles of his chest.

" _All_ your clothes," Remus reiterated, as Sam seemed to pause for a moment.

"As you wish." Sam was flushed, though it was hard to tell in the dim light. He unfastened his trousers and pushed them down over his hips and the bulge of his cock, letting them fall to the floor and stepping away from the puddle of black wool. He put one hand lightly on the edge of the massage table to balance as he removed his socks, then stood upright again, hooking his thumbs into the elastic waistband of his underpants. Deliberately he caressed the firm length of his prick through the white cotton before he let it spring free, bending over and giving Remus a delicious view of his arse as he shed that last piece of clothing.

"Is that what you wanted, Mr Lupin? May I touch your cock now?"

"Yes," Remus whispered.

Sam oiled his hands once more, rubbing to warm them, and placed them on Remus's stomach, rubbing downward in small circles, sliding underneath Remus's hard cock. He continued to massage with one hand, but with the other-- _god, finally_ \--he held Remus's prick, just holding it for a moment, as if it were something precious.

"You've a very nice cock, sir." Sam's voice quivered a tiny bit, and he spread out his fingers.

"Thank you," Remus managed to say. With Sam standing and himself lying down, Sam's prick was nearly at Remus's eye level. "You have a fine one yourself, if you don't mind my saying so."

"Not at all." Sam stepped nearer, almost close enough for Remus to turn his face and press a kiss to Sam's bare skin, more than close enough for Remus to smell Sam's scent, the musky fragrance of desire.

He breathed deeply, enjoying the scent, but not wanting to touch Sam yet--he was enjoying the services of Sam's character a little too much. He let his legs fall open a little further.

"Please feel free to touch me... wherever you'd like," he said, attempting to keep his voice as light as he could under the circumstances, his leaking prick heavy and tight in Sam's grasp.

"Thank you, sir," Sam replied, and he brought his other hand down to caress Remus's bollocks, which were tight, nearly bursting with come. "I think I will."

"Ohh..." Remus sighed. He couldn't last much longer--Sam's touch was electric, and he knew that when Sam began to move his hands-- _ohgodthere_ \--he'd be coming in only a minute or two, like a randy teenager.

"Fuck, oh god, yes," Remus babbled as Sam's fingers caressed his cock just the way Remus liked, with light touches on the upstroke and firmer ones on the downstroke. Sam's other hand slipped back, back, behind Remus's bollocks, stroking all the while, until his fingers touched Remus's perineum and Remus arched up, hissing.

"You--you like that, Mr Lupin." It wasn't a question. Sam's voice trembled and the massage table shook a little--Remus realised Sam was rubbing his prick against it as he fondled Remus's cock and balls.

Remus nodded, not trusting himself with words.

"Shall I continue, sir? Would you like me to massage... a little further back?"

"God, _yes_ ," gasped Remus. "Touch my arsehole, make me come, please--" He was close, and he knew it. He hoped Sam was, too.

Sam's fingers continued on their journey while Sam's other hand flew on Remus's prick, Remus's precome mixing with the oil from Sam's hands. Remus thrust up, up, lifting his hips from the table, fucking Sam's tight fist.

When Sam's oiled finger pressed just inside Remus's arsehole, that was it. Remus came with a cry, spurting onto Sam's hand and his own belly, the bitter scent of come mingling with the light fragrance of the oil. Ropy strands of spunk coated Sam's fist, and when Remus's cock was still twitching out his orgasm, Sam brought his hand down to coat Remus's balls with the mixture of oil and semen.

"Come on me," Remus gasped, curling his own hand around his cock and milking the last of his climax from himself. "Please, Sam. Want you to."

" _Yes_ ," Sam agreed, and swung himself up onto the table, kneeling over Remus's supine body. With the same hand he'd used to bring Remus off, he grasped his prick and pumped it, his bollocks swaying. "Whatever service you wish, I'm happy--to--provide." The last few words jerked out of his mouth as the semen spurted from his cock, splattering on Remus's stomach and chest. Sam bent forward, breathing hard.

"That was fantastic," said Remus, curling his hands around Sam's back and pulling him closer. "You're a marvellous masseur... even if I don't have any other experience to compare it to." He gave Sam a kiss. "Actually, even if someone else could do a better job with the massage--though I don't see how--those 'extra services' are something only you could give me."

Sam chuckled. "Yeah. I've never had a masseur offer those to me. Wished one would, a few times, but they've always been very professional and ignored my reactions." He rubbed his rough cheek against Remus's shoulder. "Guess I'd better change this massage table back into a bed, huh? Great for one person to relax on, but not for two to sleep."

"True enough."

Sam got up, and Remus followed suit. "I suppose a shower is probably a good idea before going to bed. I'm a bit oily."

"That's the one downside. If you ever do get a professional massage, wear clothes you don't mind getting a bit gunked up. Oh, they'll make sure you have towels to clean up with before you get dressed again, but I always managed to miss a few spots," Sam said. He found his wand and transfigured the bed back. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"A lot." Remus embraced Sam tightly. "I'm glad you suggested it. Maybe we could try some other sorts of roleplaying, sometime."

"I think that's a splendid idea." Sam grinned. "But I want to look at your little collection again, too, see if that inspires any other ideas."

Remus nodded. "If you like. Come on, let's shower."

Under the hot water, as they were soaping all the bits of each other that they could reach, Remus said, "You seem awfully intrigued by my... toys. Do you use any yourself?"

Sam shook his head. "I never have, actually," he said. "I've always known they existed, of course, but somehow I could never get up the courage to actually go into a sex shop and buy one." Remus laughed, and Sam did, too.

"I know!" he exclaimed, handing Remus the shampoo. "It's ridiculous. Yes, I've been into sex shops a few times--always Muggle ones, mind you--but I've never managed to so much as stop long enough by the toy section to get a good look." He paused, slicking his wet hair back from his face.

"It can be embarrassing the first few times," Remus admitted, "but then you realise that everyone else in the shop is in there for the same reason. Oh, not necessarily to buy plugs, or what have you, but to fulfil some sexual need."

"I guess I know that, logically," Sam replied, "But, god, I don't know--buying a plug in a shop--I feel like I'd be announcing to the world that I'm actually an old fairy." He shook his head and got out of the shower.

Remus followed a moment later and joined him in towelling off. They made their way back to Remus's room in silence, each putting on clean pants to wear to bed.

They crawled beneath the covers and Remus put an arm around Sam.

"You _are_ an old fairy," he said softly, running his fingers over Sam's back, "well, middle-aged, not old, but that's beside the point. There are plenty of straight blokes who like to take one up the arse now and then. A plug's not such a big deal."

"Remus, I _know_ that. I just don't want to do it _myself_." Sam turned over, presenting his back to Remus.

"All right." Remus decided to let the matter drop for the moment.

There was a period of silence between them. Sam's breathing evened out, and Remus wondered if he'd fallen asleep.

"Hey," Sam said, his voice husky. "This doesn't mean--I still want to take you to those parties, all right? As my date. As my--partner. If you still want to."

"Yes, all right," said Remus. He spooned up against Sam, and Sam held onto Remus's arm where it draped over Sam's belly.

"They're two different things, but right now I'm too tired to figure out why," said Sam, and he let out a great yawn, and neither man said anything else, for soon they were both fast asleep.

In the morning over breakfast, Sam said, "Ready to go choose a dressing gown?"

Remus looked over at him. Sam was smiling a little uncertainly. "You're sure you want to do this? In Diagon Alley? We could go to a Muggle shop instead, like Marks and Spencer. I wouldn't care."

"No." Sam let out a breath. "If you're going to come with me to parties, if we're going to be more open about this relationship, surely we can go shopping together where people might know us. Unless _you_ don't want to?"

"I've always kept my private life private... but that was largely on Teddy's account. And I'm not a public figure like you are." Remus shrugged. "It'll feel odd at first, but that's okay." He thought about what Sam had said last night, about being too embarrassed in Muggle sex shops to look around properly. "When you said that you didn't like going into a sex shop to look at toys--it's not because you're against the idea of using them, right? You just don't want people staring at you, judging you."

Sam nodded. "Pretty much."

"Well--what if we went together? Not today, necessarily, but sometime?" Remus pushed to the back of his mind the oddity that he'd taken Teddy for his first visit to Prowler only last Sunday, and now he was suggesting the same to Sam.

"I, um." Sam chewed at his lip. "I don't know. I'll have to think about it."

"All right," said Remus peaceably. "It's up to you."

When they'd finished eating, Remus quickly did the dishes, and then they headed to Madam Malkin's.

"Silk," said Sam firmly, steering Remus away from the rack that had cotton and flannel dressing gowns on it.

"But it's so impractical," Remus protested. What he meant was "expensive," but he didn't like to say so.

"Doesn't matter." Sam leaned over to whisper in Remus's ear. "I want to feel you in silk, Remus. Please?"

Remus shivered and glanced around to be sure no one had seen them, then he chastised himself as he began to look at the silk dressing gowns with Sam. If they were going to take this relationship public, he couldn't be looking over his shoulder all the time.

Sam held up a light blue dressing gown with gold piping. "This one's nice. What do you think?"

"Hm. I think I prefer something a little more sedate, actually. That one is nice, but maybe... yes, I think this brown one." He plucked a dressing gown the colour of chocolate from the rack and held it up against himself.

"Oh, that's going to look nice on you," said Sam. He took it from Remus and walked up to the counter with it, smiling at the salesgirl. "We'll take this, please. No, Remus, go look at something else or you won't let me buy it when you see the price."

Sam was right--Remus had been trying to peek at the price tag. He gave a self-deprecating grin and slunk off towards the door to look out at the street while Sam paid for the dressing gown and the salesgirl wrapped it.

He scanned the crowd and, a moment later, realised he was looking for his son. He shook his head. Teddy wasn't out there. He'd be at work, probably, and if he wasn't, he'd still be asleep--Teddy had never been an early riser. Remus didn't let himself think about _where_ Teddy might be sleeping--or whom he might be with.

"Ready?" Sam carried the bag with Remus's new dressing gown inside it, and he gave Remus a quick one-armed hug as they exited Madam Malkin's together.

"Thank you," Remus said, hugging him back. "Not just for the dressing gown, but for everything you've--everything _we're_ doing together. As far as anyone knows, I've been celibate for the past eighteen years. It's going to be good to be able to be publicly in love again." He felt heat rise in his cheeks when he said _love_ \--he still wasn't entirely used to saying it, even if he did mean it, and even if he knew that Sam did, too.

Sam only hugged him again, then let him go. "Do you have to work today?"

"Sadly, yes," Remus replied, "But I believe I'm free tonight and all tomorrow."

"Good. Your shop closes at six on Saturdays, I remember, so why don't you come by my flat when you're off?" Sam held up the bag. "You can even change into something more comfortable."

"I'll be there," Remus promised. "Blast. It's nearly noon--I have to go. See you tonight."

He hurried along the street and ducked into Flourish & Blotts. They weren't quite in full gear yet for the holiday season, but already business was picking up. Remus made a mental note to remind the manager, Phillip, that he had to have off the afternoon of Tuesday 13 December and the entire next day--Phillip would be making out the December schedule soon, and if Remus didn't keep after him, he'd forget the full moon and put Remus down to work then.

During his tea break, Remus realised that he still needed to let Teddy know about the concert. It would be quickest just to pop down to the apothecary and tell him, if he was working today, instead of sending an owl. He might as well try and see.

Remus always noticed the unique smell when he went into Slug & Jiggers, a compendium of all the herbs and other ingredients the shop stocked. It wasn't a _bad_ smell, precisely, but noticeable. He coughed as he stepped toward the counter. Teddy was indeed working, and luckily there was only one other customer waiting.

As soon as the witch had taken her purchases and left, Teddy said, "Dad! What are you doing here?"

"I just stopped by to tell you the name of the band for the concert next week--the Screaming Meemies." Remus leaned against the polished counter top. "And Sam's quite looking forward to meeting your friend. Don't worry, he won't embarrass either of you. He's spent too much time in the public eye to do that."

"I know." Teddy blew his fringe out of his eyes. "Haircut, yeah Dad, I know. It's brown for Madam Poyt though."

"So I see." Remus smiled. "Since I'm here, why don't you sell me some wound-cleaning potion? I noticed I'm nearly out, and it's a good one to keep around."

"Sure." Teddy brought down a bottle and rang up the sale. "Shall I just come over to your house next Saturday? Maybe at six?"

"That ought to be fine. I'll let you know if it changes." Remus took the bag from Teddy, then gripped his hand briefly. "Take care, Ted. I'll see you next week."

He went back to work with a lighter heart. Things seemed to be back to normal with his son, and he'd be spending the night at Sam's--yes, everything looked far better than it had last Sunday.  



	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Screaming Meemies concert is brilliant, but the aftermath is not.

Teddy had been ready to go for nearly twenty minutes. Andrew, on the other hand, was checking his hair in the bathroom mirror for what must have been the dozenth time.

"Seriously, you look great," said Teddy, coming up behind Andrew and embracing him, resting his chin on Andrew's shoulder. "Better than great. _Perfect_. You look perfect, and I'm not just saying that because we're about to be late, I promise."

"It's all right for _you_ ," replied Andrew, shaking off the embrace and attacking his hair with the brush again. "You can just think of a hairstyle and it _happens_." He scowled at himself in the mirror, then glanced at Teddy's spiky turquoise hair.

Teddy sighed. Andrew had been on edge all afternoon, though he wouldn't admit anything was bothering him, and now that it was time to leave to go to the Screaming Meemies concert, he was being downright uncooperative.

"Let me see," said Teddy. He took Andrew by the shoulders and turned him around. "Okay. Hold still." Teddy took up a pot of pomade from the counter and scooped some up, rubbing it between his hands, then went at Andrew's hair, sculpting it into peaks and waves suitable for a young bloke going to a rock concert. Sometimes working at an apothecary's came in handy.

"There," said Teddy, and Andrew turned around and regarded his reflection in the mirror once again.

"Okay," he said grudgingly, "I can live with that."

"You're gorgeous, and you know it," replied Teddy, and Andrew smiled, seemingly in spite of himself.

"Okay," he said again. "Let me just find my shoes, and we can go."

"Your black trainers are by the door, and no shoes are going to go better with that outfit." Teddy paused and wondered when he'd become so pushy--right around the time Andrew started acting like he didn't want to go, he supposed.

Andrew took his time lacing up his trainers, and Teddy tried not to sigh as he did. They were going to be _late_ , dammit, and then introductions would be rushed and everything would be bloody _weird_.

Not that it wasn't going to be weird already. Going to a pop concert with his _dad_ , and his dad's _boyfriend_? And his own--well, Teddy wasn't sure if he could call Andrew a boyfriend or not. Not yet, he supposed. Although he rather thought he'd like it, if it happened.

"So we're going to your dad's place first?"

"Yeah, we're meeting them there." Teddy shook his head, just a little bit. They'd been over this at least five times already. "Come on. You remember the Apparition coordinates, or do you want me to do a Side-Along?"

"I remember them," said Andrew.

"All right, then, I'll see you there in a minute." Teddy concentrated, then staggered slightly as he appeared in Remus's hallway. He waited, and it seemed like ages but was really only a minute before Andrew popped into view. Teddy grabbed his hand. "Come on, I bet they're in the kitchen."

Andrew pulled his hand away. "Lead on, then."

"Dad?" Teddy called out as he headed for the back of the house.

"In here," he heard Remus reply.

Teddy pushed open the kitchen door, checking to make sure Andrew was behind him. "Hey, Sam. Dad, Sam, this is my friend Andrew Pilkington. Andrew, this is my dad, and that's Sam Boardman."

"Hello, Mr Lupin. Mr Boardman," said Andrew, holding out his hand to be shaken.

"It's nice to meet you, Andrew," Remus answered. "Please call me Remus, though."

"And I'm Sam." Sam shook Andrew's hand too. "I trust you boys--sorry--you two have eaten already? We do need to get going."

"Yes, we have." Teddy grinned. "Andrew's teaching me to cook; I made toad-in-the-hole today, rather more successfully than last week."

Remus raised his eyebrows. "Andrew, have you any idea of the feat you've accomplished? I can't count the number of times I tried to get Teddy interested in learning how to cook for himself. Well done!"

Andrew blushed scarlet as Remus clapped him on the shoulder. Teddy tried to meet his eyes, but Andrew seemed determined to stare at his shoes.

"Right, well, I've been cooking for myself for a while now," said Andrew. "Ted asked, that's all. I didn't do anything, not really."

Teddy furrowed his brow. Why was Andrew acting so weird? Sure, it was a bit bizarre, the idea of meeting not only your date's dad, but your date's dad's _boyfriend_ as well, but Teddy knew that Andrew possessed more social graces than the few he was managing to display.

He nudged Andrew. "It was just as much your idea as mine," he said, "and I think you're a fine teacher." He deliberately didn't look at the other man in the room who had taught him a thing or two in recent months.

When Andrew didn't reply with anything more than a _hmm_ , Remus cleared his throat.

"Perhaps we should all be going now," he said, and he touched Andrew's shoulder again. "We don't want to miss the concert."

Andrew brightened somewhat when Remus mentioned the concert itself--he owned a couple of Screaming Meemies albums, and had played them for Teddy. Teddy knew that Andrew had been looking forward to the actual concert. Maybe it was just the weird social situation. Teddy hoped Andrew would start acting a little more like himself once they got to the concert.

He tried again to take Andrew's hand as the four of them filed into the hallway so Remus and Sam could don their cloaks, but Andrew took his fingers from Teddy's grasp after only a moment.

Teddy frowned. They'd become so physical with each other in the days and nights they'd spent together--and not just in bed; even just when they were cooking together they'd touched and kissed and brushed against each other--that Andrew's new persona was more than a little disconcerting.

"Is everyone ready?" asked Sam, and Teddy was yanked from his reverie.

"Sure," he said, grabbing Andrew's hand defiantly. He squeezed hard, a squeeze that he hoped conveyed the message _Please stop being nervous; I really really like you and my dad and Sam are nothing to be afraid of!_

"Here, so I don't forget," Sam said. "Tickets. They're pretty good ones, but I'm afraid they're not all together; we'll have to sit two and two." He winked at Teddy as he held them out. Teddy reached for them with his free hand, but Andrew disengaged Teddy's grasp to take his own ticket and tuck it away, shoving both hands into his pockets afterward.

"Come on, then. I thought we should take Muggle transport to get into the proper mood," Sam continued.

On the bus, Andrew seemed to relax a little, talking with Sam about the band and its singer. Teddy listened, not exactly bored, but confused by Andrew's behaviour. At first it had seemed that Andrew didn't like the idea of going with Teddy's dad and his boyfriend, but the way he interacted with Sam belied that. And why was he edging away every time Teddy touched him? It didn't make sense. Teddy hadn't pushed him to go; once Andrew had found out who the band was, he'd been eager.

"Here we are," said Remus cheerfully, and the four of them got off, crossing the street to the concert venue. The audience seemed to be mostly teenagers and twenty-somethings, Teddy's and Andrew's ages, but there was a fair scattering of older people as well, so Remus and Sam didn't stand out, except perhaps for wearing cloaks--but the choice of clothing was so wildly variable that even those weren't too outlandish, as near as Teddy could tell. There were even quite a few people with hair as unusually coloured as Teddy's turquoise.

"It's going to be _great_ ," Teddy murmured in Andrew's ear. He wanted to put an arm around him, but he was fairly sure Andrew would just step away again. He'd have to ask what was wrong later. There was no point in doing so now, as they were going in the doors.

"We're on opposite sides," Sam said, pointing to the left.

"Shall we just meet here after it's over?" said Remus. "That seems easiest."

"Fine by me," answered Teddy, and Andrew nodded. They headed toward the entrance on the right and made their way to their seats. Sam had been right, they _were_ good; a bit off to the side, but down close to the stage, though not so close that they wouldn't be able to see the whole band easily.

Andrew was looking around interestedly. After a bit he put his mouth close to Teddy's ear to say over the noise of the crowd, "It's a lot more packed than I thought it would be, somehow."

"Yeah! It's great, isn't it?" replied Teddy, speaking close to Andrew's ear, as Andrew had done to him. "Have you ever been to a big concert like this before?"

Andrew shook his head, casting a glance over the crowd. Teddy wanted nothing more than to squeeze Andrew's hand then, but he had a feeling he would probably be rebuffed once again, courtesy of Andrew's unreadable mood. He settled for watching Andrew scan the crowd, letting the babble fill his ears.

Andrew gave a start, then, staring at something behind Teddy, his mouth slightly open. Teddy turned to look--two boys, maybe seventeen, were snogging right there where anyone could see them. One had close-cropped sandy hair and the other, smaller boy had hair the colour of a bonfire, streaked with reds and yellows and oranges. They had their arms around each other and must have been oblivious to the noise of the crowd pressing in all around them, for they were clearly in their own world, together.

Teddy watched as the smaller boy ran his hand down the other's arm and pulled away a little. The two grinned at each other, then the sandy-haired boy bent to speak in the other boy's ear, making him laugh. Teddy grinned at the sight and turned back to Andrew, who was pointedly looking elsewhere in the crowd.

"Huh," Teddy said aloud to no one in particular. The picture the two boys had made was burned into his mind, snogging in the middle of the throng of people, uncaring about what anyone might think, love passing between them and buzzing around them, drowning out the noise of the crowd and making them focus solely on each other.

He'd have liked to have kissed Andrew like that, right there, but he was a little afraid of what Andrew might do if he tried. And, he had to admit to himself, he was _more_ than a little afraid to kiss another boy in public--no matter what it was they got up to in the privacy of their bedrooms.

Andrew turned back to Teddy, then, and spoke into his ear again. "D'you think it'll start soon?" Andrew's breath on his ear made the hairs on the back of Teddy's neck stand up, and he shivered.

He nodded, and Andrew grinned at him, then, and Teddy was reminded of how any mention of the band had brightened Andrew's mood that day.

As it turned out, there was an opening act that neither of them had ever heard of--Teddy didn't even catch the name when it was announced, but Andrew said it was Purple-something--and which was only mediocre, in Teddy's opinion. He suspected his father would hate it for having virtually no melody in the tunes, only pounding beats and wailing guitars and shrieking voices. He just thought it wasn't very original, himself. Andrew seemed not to think too highly of the music either; he nodded in time with the songs, but there was a little frown on his face.

When the Screaming Meemies appeared, though, the room exploded with delighted applause, and they were far better. Sam's former student, the lead singer, had a marvellous voice, able to produce everything from a sensuous low purr to a high clear bell-like tone, which might have been the reason why the band's songs had such a great variety of sound. Teddy let himself be swept up in it, dancing and bouncing in place with the rest of the audience, aware of Andrew doing the same next to him.

During a song called "Love to Love You," he saw someone a couple of rows from the front toss something on the stage. _Knickers_ , he realised with delighted shock, craning his neck to see who'd thrown them. It was a girl, he thought, although the person was fairly tall with a sharp dark androgynous face. _Wicked._

Most of the crowd was doubtless straight as an arrow, but seeing the two boys kissing, the girl throwing her knickers at another girl, made Teddy grin. He still felt a little shy of doing more, but no one would notice if he squeezed Andrew's arse surreptitiously, surely.

Andrew jumped, though, and stepped away, shooting Teddy what he could only describe as a panicky glare. "Cut it out," he barked in Teddy's ear.

Damn it. Teddy was just trying to show his affection, discreetly, and Andrew overreacted like this? Teddy had to focus hard not to change his appearance in annoyance; it wouldn't do, not in Muggle space. He turned slightly away from Andrew and concentrated on the band, trying to get lost in the music again. He couldn't help but be aware of Andrew next to him, seeming likewise stiff and ill-at-ease for a song or two, but then the band played something that was apparently one of Andrew's favourites, for his face brightened and he sang along with it, as did most of the crowd. Teddy felt a bit left out for not knowing the words, but it _was_ a brilliant tune.

After that Teddy didn't try to touch Andrew again until the show was over. When it was, Andrew turned and said, "Aren't they great? I've never had the chance to hear them live before."

"Um--yeah, actually. I really liked them." Andrew's good mood came as a surprise to Teddy, especially after his reaction the last time Teddy had tried to touch him.

Andrew nodded, grinning, and he leaned close to speak in Teddy's ear again. "You don't think Sam could maybe get us backstage to meet them, do you?"

Teddy shrugged. "Let's go find my dad and Sam and we'll see." He wasn't much in the mood to be asking for favours for Andrew, but he would have liked to meet the band himself, so he thought he'd see what Sam said.

When they had finally pushed through the crowd to the lobby, they found Remus and Sam already there waiting for them. They were deep in conversation and didn't notice Teddy and Andrew approaching until they were right on top of them.

"Enjoy the concert, boys?" asked Remus, and they both nodded.

"It was brilliant!" declared Andrew. He grasped Sam's hand and pumped it up and down. "Thanks a lot, Mr Board--ah, Sam. Thanks for the ticket--I probably would never have got to see them live otherwise."

"My pleasure," said Sam, grinning broadly.

Teddy frowned, wondering why exactly touching Sam was okay with Andrew, but the moment Teddy approached him, he jumped away. But he pushed the thought aside when he heard Andrew asking if Sam thought there was any chance they could get backstage, as he was definitely interested in the answer.

Sam looked at Remus, who merely raised his eyebrows and shrugged.

"I don't know, Andrew. I think Remus and I might have had enough excitement for one night--we're not quite as young and vibrant as you and Ted. But I do meet up with Aimee now and then when she's travelling through, so there's the distinct probability that we could all have lunch together someday, or something. Much better than the insanity of backstage. Trust me on that."

Andrew looked somewhat disappointed, but he nodded. "All right. I'd like that very much, wouldn't you, Ted?"

"Sure," Teddy agreed. "She was really fantastic. The whole band, but Aimee especially. Thanks, Sam, for getting us in tonight."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it." Sam put his hand on Remus's elbow. "But I think these two old men are ready to head for home now."

Remus smiled at Sam and patted his arm. "Your place tonight."

Teddy quashed a pang at the look on his father's face--he _was_ happy that Remus was happy, he told himself stubbornly--and glanced away. Andrew had turned red and taken a step back.

"Yeah, well. I guess I'll see you next week sometime then," Teddy mumbled. "Thanks again, Sam."

"Yes, thank you. It was nice to meet you," Andrew said a little stiffly.

Teddy pulled Andrew aside, out of the way of the last stragglers coming out of the building, as Remus and Sam headed for the bus stop. "What do you want to do now? It's not _that_ late; we could go to a club or something? Even if the music won't be as good as the Meemies."

"A club?" Andrew sounded wary.

"Yeah, a club. You know, drink, dance, that sort of thing." Teddy was still wound up from the energy of the show. "I've heard that Charon is pretty fun, off Amor Alley, although I've never been there."

Andrew swallowed. "I don't think it's the type of place I'd be comfortable at."

"Whyever not? It's supposed to be friendly to all types. You know. We could dance together there," said Teddy. "I'm not ready to go home yet, are you? I thought that it might be fun. Kind of a let down to just go have a drink at the boring old Leaky."

"I like the boring old Leaky," said Andrew, shoving his hands in his pockets. The crowd had dissipated almost entirely, and their voices sounded too loud in the crisp winter evening.

Teddy glanced around, then stepped closer to Andrew. "Hey, what's going on?"

"What do you mean?"

"What do you _mean_ , what do I mean? I mean what's going on? Why did you move away from me every time I tried to touch you in there? Why have you been acting like a prat all night?" Teddy paused for breath. "Seriously," he said, more slowly now, "is something the matter?"

Andrew gave an uncomfortable little laugh. "Bloody hell, Ted, who d'you think you are, my bride-to-be? Why all the relationship questions?"

Teddy scowled. "Why the avoidance?" He crossed his arms over his chest and set his jaw. He wasn't going to let Andrew get away with ignoring his questions.

"I don't need this discussion right now," Andrew said. "Come on, let's just go back to your flat. Or mine--I've got some beer there. Maybe we could have a drink or two, and go from there."

"Go _where_ from there?" Teddy's voice cracked, and he felt colour start to rise reflexively in his cheeks, but he didn't care. "Andrew, this is--I have no idea what's going on." He looked around again to be certain that no one was overhearing this awkward semblance of a conversation.

"Listen," said Andrew, his voice gentler, but with an edge of restraint, "I'm sorry. If you want to talk, let's do it somewhere else. All right? Not here in the bloody street."

"Fine," said Teddy. He privately thought that Andrew didn't _sound_ very sorry, but he kept that thought to himself for the moment.

"My place or yours?" asked Andrew with an attempt at a grin. Teddy's expression soured at the bastardisation of the pickup line he'd used the first night they had met at the Leaky.

He sighed. "Yours, I suppose," he said. "A beer sounds really bloody good right about now."

They found a spot in an alley where no stray Muggle could see them, and Apparated to Andrew's flat.

"Here." Andrew rummaged in his fridge and passed Teddy a can of beer, opening one for himself.

Teddy popped it open and took a long swallow before sitting down at one end of the sofa. Andrew settled at the far end. His hair had wilted somewhat at the concert, but was still attractively tousled. He was an awfully good-looking bloke, really, and the way he licked the stray drops of beer from his lips made Teddy want to do it for him--no, _fuck_ , Andrew'd been acting weird all night and Teddy wanted to know _why_. He wasn't going to let himself be distracted.

"Okay, then. We're at your flat, no one else is here, so let's talk. You didn't seem like you wanted to go see the band, somehow, even though obviously you liked the show a lot. Was it just me you didn't want to be around?" Teddy couldn't quite keep a note of hurt out of his voice. "I thought we were getting to be friends."

"We are," said Andrew quickly. "Ted, I really like you. I do."

"So what the hell were you doing tonight? Seriously, it seemed like you couldn't stand to be around me," said Teddy. He drank again.

"You're--you don't understand what it's like, being what I am."

"What do you mean, 'being what you are'? A poof? A fairy? A nancy?" Teddy went for the words that might hurt. "Well, if you are, so am I. So what?"

"No. Well, that, but being on the Portree team. Even just as a reserve player--I hope I'll get promoted, in a year or two. It means I'm in the public eye a bit, you know?" Andrew's expression was uncomfortable. "There's certain, well, certain expectations. For behaviour. I can't be out there snogging you in public."

"You mean they'd kick you off the team if people knew you fancied me?" asked Teddy incredulously. "That's ridiculous."

"Maybe not kick me off, but I'd get a lot of grief for it. Stupid gossip in the _Prophet_ , whispers in the showers, you know." Andrew was staring down at the can he was holding between his knees. "I can't handle that kind of thing. I just can't."

Teddy stared at Andrew for a moment, his mouth hanging open. "You're serious?"

Andrew turned to Teddy, glaring. "Of course I'm bloody _serious_! You think I want all the blokes on the team to avoid me in the locker rooms? You think I want my mum to find out about how I am by reading it in the _paper_?"

"Listen, Andrew, I'm not some kind of activist, or anything--I'm kind of just figuring this all out myself--but I want to be able to be who I am without censoring myself for anyone." He ticked off on his fingers. "Blue hair, werewolf dad, _queer_. Whatever. I'm not exactly ready to march in one of those parades the Muggles have, or anything, but god, Andrew, I want to be able to like someone--to like _you_ \--without having to hide it!"

Teddy was only bluffing a little--he was actually scared as hell to be affectionate with Andrew in Wizarding public, especially after Andrew had acted like he had when they were only around Muggles. But he meant the rest of it, and besides, he was annoyed at Andrew's fears and cross with him for not speaking up about them in the first place.

Andrew drained the rest of his beer, not looking at Teddy.

"You don't think I want that, too?" he mumbled after too long a moment.

"I don't know," Teddy replied with a shrug of one shoulder, "It doesn't seem like you do."

"Well, I _do_ ," said Andrew, "I just--"

"Don't want it _enough_ ," Teddy supplied, finishing his own beer. He slammed the can down onto the coffee table. "Got more of these? I think we might need them."

Andrew only nodded and gestured towards the refrigerator. Teddy found a reserve of beer in the back, extracted two cans, and popped them open, handing one to Andrew. Their fingers brushed when he did, but he pretended not to notice.

They sat silently for a few minutes, drinking. Finally Teddy said, "Does anyone you actually _care_ about know that you're queer? Not whoever else you've fooled around with besides me, I mean."

"No." Andrew said it so softly that Teddy almost didn't hear him. "There's only been about three or four other blokes, anyway." He swallowed. "If I hadn't been drunk the night we met..."

"So being with me that night was some kind of lapse on your part, even if you were so careful to snog 'round the corner by the loo so that no one would see?" asked Teddy, unable to keep the venom from his voice.

"Ted--oh, _fuck_. That wasn't what I meant. I'm just, I'm _scared_ , okay? I hate it, but I am." Andrew took a long pull of his beer. "Maybe you're perfectly fine with being out and open and everything, since your dad has a boyfriend and your mum's dead and there's not exactly going to be any repercussions for you with your family. But my mum will weep and wail and my dad will be all stern disappointment, and my sisters will giggle and gossip. That's on _top_ of how the team will react, and my other friends."

"How do you _know_?" asked Teddy.

"I _know_. Believe me. I've heard what they've said about other people." Andrew stared at his shoes. "How many of _your_ friends were happy when you told them?"

"Um." Teddy swallowed. "I haven't exactly told any of them yet, actually. Like I said, I'm only just figuring it all out. So it's only my dad and Sam who know."

"Well, how easy was it to tell your dad?"

"Not very," Teddy admitted. "He hadn't told me _he_ was queer--I, uh, I walked in on him and Sam only a couple of months ago. You know. Having sex. Kind of a tough way to find out."

"So you ought to understand if I'm kind of hesitant to let people know, or be all over you in public. I mean, if your dad couldn't tell _you_?" There was an odd mixture of anger and resignation and challenge in Andrew's voice.

"My dad--he's got nothing to _do_ with this," Teddy spat back. "There's a big bloody difference between telling your _parents_ and telling your _kid_. Your kid that you had with a _woman_ , your kid who's only eighteen and who you think will probably be pretty confused, except he turns out to be a whole lot more understanding that you think he ever could be--whoa." Teddy paused and reviewed the tangle of words he'd just directed at Andrew. Okay, he hadn't given anything away. He took a deep breath and began again, trying to make his voice a little gentler but, he thought, failing.

"You don't have to be 'all over me' in public," he said. "And the only reason I haven't told any of my friends yet is that I haven't really had a reason to do so." He shrugged. "But--you're a good reason. If we're--um, together. So I guess I should tell them."

"Not about _me_ , though!" Andrew's voice was panicked.

Teddy set his beer on the coffee table and buried his head in his hands. He stayed like that for a minute, trying his hardest not to lash out at Andrew.

"No," he finally said through gritted teeth. He raised his head and looked over at Andrew. "I wouldn't tell them about you. It's your business. Though I guess eventually they'd all want to meet this bloke I'd be talking about. This bloke I'd be _praising_. This bloke who I thought was a pretty bloody great catch until--fuck, never _mind_." He slumped back on the sofa. This conversation was going nowhere. He knew Andrew wasn't going to budge--not tonight, anyway--and no matter how much they drank he wasn't going to Floo call his mum and explain why he never seemed to have a girlfriend.

"Ted, I like you," said Andrew, staring at his hands. "I mean, more than--I said there had been a few others, but I never spent time with them like I do with you, you know? And a couple of them were just so-called straight men who wanted a handjob and didn't care whose hand was involved. So I've never had a--whatever this is. Nothing that felt good in any way other than the physical, not like this has. So I'm a little torn up over it at the moment. Kind of fucks with my whole blokey Quidditch persona thing I've been cultivating."

Teddy's heart trembled a little at Andrew's honest speech, but he took a breath and ignored it.

"I don't care," he said after a long moment. "I should, but I don't. Get over yourself, Andrew."

He did care. Oh, god. He did.

It hurt to stand up, but he did it. "Let me know if you change your mind. You know where I live."

"Ted, _please_ , don't go."

Teddy shook his head. "I don't think I can do this if you're going to freak out at the thought of even touching in public, just holding hands. If you want to hide, you can, but then you're making me hide who I am too. No." He almost said "I'm sorry," because he _was_ , but he was too angry and upset to want to concede that. "You know how to reach me," he repeated. "Goodbye, Andrew."

And with that he Apparated back to his own flat, worrying for an instant as he did so that the two beers had been enough to make him lose concentration and splinch himself, but he arrived intact.

"Fuck, fuck, _fuck_!" He wanted to hit something. It had seemed like such a good evening, there for a while. The concert had been brilliant. Why had Andrew had to be so, so-- _bugger_ it. If Andrew wasn't willing to be at least a _little_ honest about his sexuality with other people, how could Teddy stay with him? Yeah, he hadn't told anyone but his dad (and Sam) yet, but it hadn't really been that long since he'd recognised that he did genuinely prefer blokes, that it wasn't just an occasional thing in the Hogwarts showers or whatever. Not even two months, whereas Andrew had apparently been sure for years, even if he hadn't done much about it.

He looked in his cupboard and then the fridge, hoping to find something else to drink, but all he had was a couple of Butterbeers, and he didn't feel like going out in quest of anything. The off-licences were probably all closed by now, and he was in too rotten a mood to go to a pub and have to interact with people. He'd had quite enough of that already this evening.

"Bugger," Teddy muttered. He'd expected that he and Andrew would be having sex tonight--well, blow each other, at least. He guessed he was glad that they'd never quite reached the point of trying penetration. Or maybe if they had, Andrew would have felt differently? _Don't second-guess_ , he told himself, reaching to adjust his cock, which seemingly didn't care that he was angry with Andrew and was reacting to the memory of Andrew's hot wet mouth. Well. He could always wank, he supposed. Maybe tonight was the night to experiment with the plugs that Remus had given him. Since the lessons had been put on hiatus, and he'd been seeing Andrew, he hadn't ever bothered to try them out.

The plugs and lube were tucked away in the same drawer where he'd stashed the magazine he'd bought at Prowler. Teddy pulled them out, biting his lip as he ran his fingers over the cool firm surfaces. Even with the lube they'd feel very different from a tongue. Throat tight, he repressed the memory of Andrew, of Remus, licking his arse.

He brought out the magazine, too, and flipped through it until he came to a spread that purported to demonstrate when went on in the locker room after a rugby game. He snorted, thinking of Andrew's protestations about his Quidditch teammates' reactions if they discovered his secret. If pornographic magazines were anything to be trusted, it seemed they'd all celebrate with an orgy.

Teddy snorted again and turned the pages until he came to another set of pictures showing a young man, about his own age, embracing a man who was old enough to be his father.

Fucking _hell_ , okay, that was hot. Teddy glanced over his shoulder, knowing full well there wasn't anyone else in his flat but feeling guilty nonetheless. He quickly stripped off, leaving his clothes in a heap by his bed and stretching himself across it with the magazine, the smallest of his set of plugs, and the bottle of lube.

He stuffed a couple of pillows under his head so he could read--well, look, anyway--at a better angle, and he made sure the lube was nearby for when he'd ultimately need it. His cock was already stiffening, and he rolled the plug along its length, shivering and spreading his legs wider at the new sensation.

The first couple of pages of the spread were brilliant--photos of the older man taking off the clothes of the younger one, licking him all over as he did so, then spreading him over a wide bed--but the next ones were _better_ than brilliant, Teddy thought. There was no accompanying text, but from the variety of activities the two men performed, it was almost as if the older man was meant to be-- _ohgod_ \--teaching the younger one.

Teddy whined, his prick throbbing with need. He ignored it for a moment, however, and dragged a fingertip across his arsehole. He was going to be _fucked_ tonight--maybe not by Remus, certainly not by Andrew, but he was going to have something big and hard in his arse, and that was all he cared about.

He rolled over onto his belly, propping the magazine up against his pillows, open to the best pictures of the bunch. In the first, the older man was spearing his tongue into the arsehole of the boy, who was arching his back, his mouth open, his eyes closed, his dark eyelashes fanned out across his cheeks. And in the second, the older man was actually guiding his cock into the boy's arsehole. Just the very tip was inside, and both participants had looks of utter bliss on their faces.

 _Yes_ , he wanted that, wanted something spreading him open, wanted to be slick inside, wanted to be _penetrated_. He couldn't have a cock, maybe, but he'd have _something_.

The plug glistened as he spread lube on it. Teddy held it in one hand, teasing his arsehole with the other. Remus had told him to be sure to use plenty of lube, he remembered, so he awkwardly squeezed out another glob of it onto his fingers and smoothed it into his arsehole, trying to relax the muscle enough for some to get well inside. Then he looked at the picture again as he brought the plug up against himself.

It might not be a Wizarding picture, which would have shown the two men actually moving, but Teddy's imagination was plenty good enough for this. His breath caught as he nudged the tip of the plug into his pucker, feeling the slight stretch, almost a burn. It was the smallest he had, but still bigger than a finger. Slowly. There was no need to rush. He took a long slow breath, another, relaxing as he exhaled, letting the plug creep into him millimetre by millimetre.

The lube had warmed quickly with his body heat, and once the broadest part of the plug had slipped inside, the rest of it slid home, the base nestling tight against him. Teddy groaned. _Yes._ He shifted, rubbing his prick against the sheets.

As he adjusted to the feeling of fullness, quite different from the way it had felt to have someone else's tongue there, he held on to the plug's base and pulled it out a couple of inches, then let it sink back in. God, that was good. His father had said that toys weren't as enjoyable as a real prick, but Teddy thought this was just fine, although the occasional squelching sound made him want to laugh.

 _I like to hear that laughter._ Remus's words floated through his mind, and Teddy gulped, torn between the sensation that the plug was giving him, and the feeling that he'd cocked things up now both with Remus and with Andrew, in only a couple of weeks.

He'd figure something out. If Andrew wasn't willing to compromise a little--and Teddy wasn't asking him to act all poncy in public, or march in a parade, or anything, just to be willing to hold _hands_ without jumping out of his skin--well, there were other blokes, right? Although he really did like Andrew, a lot.

And probably he could convince Remus to finish their lessons eventually too. Well, Remus _had_ half-promised they would. Teddy just needed to be patient, that was all. He glanced at the picture of the two men, the older man's expression of bliss as he penetrated the younger. _I could make Dad look that way, if he'd let me._ The thought almost made Teddy come, and he hastily squeezed the base of his cock to prevent it. He wanted more time with the plug inside him, first.

Teddy wriggled, twisting the base of it, and then his eyes opened wide. _Fuck_ , that must be his prostate, sending those tingles all through him.

He knelt up, then, wanting to feel that sensation again, wanting the plug deeper inside his arse. He felt a little ridiculous moving around on the bed with the plug sticking out of his arse while he tried to find a comfortable position where he could also see the magazine, but in another moment, that didn't matter, as he pushed the plug up into himself and it brushed his prostate again.

Teddy saw stars. His mouth gaped, and he did it again.

" _Fuck_ ," he gasped aloud, and he eyed the drawer where the other, larger plugs lay awaiting him.

No, he mustn't be greedy. Not yet. He'd start with the smallest, getting off with that in his arse, just as his father had suggested. It felt fucking brilliant, anyway, he thought, as he twisted it and pulled it out a little, then pushed it back in as slowly as he could.

His position was awkward; he felt as if he might fall on his face if the pleasure got too intense. He lay on his back, then, and _yes_ , that was better. He couldn't see the magazine, but the picture was burned into his brain, and the sensation of the plug alone was enough to get him off, he was sure of it.

"Oh, _fuck_ ," he gasped, sliding the plug in and out of his arsehole, grazing his prostate every few strokes. He fisted his cock, too excited to take it slowly, his brain overwhelmed by the combination of the erotic photographs, the memory of his father, and the new fullness he was experiencing.

He choked and jerked himself harder, smearing his precome down the shaft and still working the plug in and out of his arse. The thought flashed across his mind that there was a spell he could use to keep it moving, but he wasn't about to stop and find his wand; he was too damned close to coming.

"Fuck, yes, _yes_ ," he chanted as he felt his climax approaching. He canted his hips up off the bed and pushed the plug in almost violently, pressing at the base of it to keep it buried inside him as deeply as possible while he came, decorating his belly with ropes of pearly spunk, gasping, crying out.

He rolled over and pressed his prick hard against the bed, rubbing the last of his orgasm out onto his sheets.

Oh, there was _definitely_ something to this penetration thing.

As he slid the plug out, he decided that he'd been right to stick with the smallest one, because he did feel a little bit tender there now, after his enthusiastic self-fucking. Another time or two with this one, though, and he could try moving up, although this had been plenty good enough for tonight. He no longer wanted to punch the walls in his frustration with Andrew; instead he wished that he could share the pleasure he'd just had. If Andrew didn't think the whole idea of plugs was too weird. Teddy didn't know. Maybe he never would know, but he hoped so, although he still felt bitter at the way they'd quarrelled.

He sat up and swung his legs off the bed, yawning, then ambled down to the bathroom to wash off the plug and clean his teeth. When he came back to his bedroom, he found his wand and cleaned up the sheets--no reason to sleep in stickiness--before putting the plug away and climbing into bed. He flipped through the magazine again. There was another set of pictures, one he hadn't looked at before, featuring a young blond man all on his own, wearing a complicated leather harness and wanking himself. The boy in the pictures didn't really resemble Andrew very much, except for the fair hair, but Teddy imagined seeing Andrew in that position and shivered. He'd be gorgeous, with that unruly fringe flopping down across his eyes, his body arching. Next time, maybe, Teddy would look at these pictures. And he'd work out how to make the plug move on its own. He thought about possible spells, but was too tired after all that had happened to try any of them tonight.

Teddy set the magazine aside so he wouldn't fall asleep and crumple it accidentally, then curled up. Sleep eluded him, though. He kept thinking back to the argument with Andrew.

Was he being unreasonable? He didn't think so... but maybe he was asking too much, too soon? They'd only been seeing each other for a couple of weeks, after all. Teddy thought about when he'd started going out with Victoire. There hadn't been the issue of whether their friends would think less of them, of course, but he'd kind of wanted to keep it private for a while, in case things didn't work out. Of course in the long run they hadn't, but it had lasted most of a year, which was pretty long for a school romance, really. Maybe part of Andrew's reluctance was for that sort of reason, the fear of admitting emotion too openly and looking a fool if it didn't work out.

Teddy chewed on his lip. He'd pretty much given Andrew an ultimatum before walking out. Not easy to go back on that. He rolled over, trying to find a position where he could relax, but his brain kept whirring on. He could wait a few days, anyhow, see if Andrew tried to get in touch. If not, in a week or so... well, maybe Teddy could think of some way to talk to him again without looking like he was totally giving in.

He tossed and turned for a while longer. Sleep was still elusive. He tried counting backwards from one thousand, but his mind kept drifting back to the end of his conversation with Andrew.

 _Please don't go_ , Andrew had said, but he hadn't _done_ anything, dammit, to keep Teddy there. Teddy huffed and turned over. Andrew hadn't even _stood up_. Bastard.

Maybe if Teddy could make himself cross enough, he would feel a little better about how he'd acted, how abruptly he had stood and Apparated out of Andrew's living room. He flopped onto his stomach and sighed. No. No point getting himself worked up, not right now. All he needed was to get some sleep, and he could think about the situation as much as he liked the next day--or not. Maybe he'd go see what his dad was doing instead. Keep his mind off things.

Teddy smiled and curled up, bringing his knees to his chest. Yes, he'd show up at Remus's house, maybe drag his dad out--or maybe they could stay in. He didn't allow himself to think of the vague possibility of what the two of them might do if they stayed in--after all, Remus had made no indication that he was interested in starting the lessons again. _Yet_.

He wondered if his dad might even have some advice for him. Surely he was better at this dating thing than Teddy was--he was older and, in most cases, wiser, and Teddy thought he might have even had a boyfriend or two who had acted as Andrew did. Yes, Remus would know what to do.

Teddy yawned and turned over one last time and fell asleep, Remus on his mind.  



	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teddy needs advice; he goes to Remus and gets what he came for.

Remus shook a few biscuits onto a plate, looked at it critically, and added several more. The kettle was boiling. He switched it off and made tea, glancing at the clock. Teddy would be there at any minute.

 _Can I drop by on Sunday?_ he'd asked, standing by the counter at the bookshop. _I really need to talk to you._

It had been obvious when he'd come in that something was bothering him. Just like his mother, his emotions were transparent on his face--at least, they were to Remus.

 _Of course_ , Remus had said. _Come by at four, we'll have tea._

He was prepared if Teddy ended up staying for dinner, too, with chicken in the fridge and bottled korma sauce to cook it in, and rice and courgettes. Sam had been over last night and Remus had told him that Teddy wanted a heart-to-heart with his dad, so he knew that they wouldn't be interrupted. He wondered what it was that was troubling Teddy so much. He'd seemed cheerful enough last weekend at the concert, if a little awkward, introducing his friend--boyfriend? hard to tell--to Remus and Sam. Well, soon enough Remus would find out.

The door banged and Teddy's footsteps came dragging down the hall instead of his usual cheerful clatter. Whatever the problem was, it hadn't gone away.

"Hey, Dad," said Teddy as he came in.

"Come on, have a seat." Remus pushed the plate of biscuits across the table. "I bought your favourites."

"Yeah? Thanks." Teddy's expression brightened momentarily as he reached out and took a ginger biscuit. "That was really ace of you."

Remus hesitated, then asked, "What's up? I'm always glad to see you, you know that, but you said you wanted to talk about something."

Teddy paused in the middle of a bite, and set the biscuit down carefully. "I, um. Well. It's about Andrew."

"Oh?" Remus poured a cup of tea and took a sip, then filled and passed another cup to Teddy. "What about Andrew? He seemed a pleasant boy; shy, maybe, but polite."

"Not shy," said Teddy, blowing the steam off his tea. "Actually not really shy at all. More like... afraid."

Remus sat back in his chair. "Afraid?" Teddy nodded, staring into his tea. "Afraid of what, Ted? Surely not of me or Sam."

"No. More like the whole world." Teddy slumped in his chair and blew out a breath, hiding behind his fringe--brown today, like Remus's own hair. Neither man spoke for a long moment--Remus knew from experience that at times like this, it was best to give Teddy time, let him speak when he was ready. If Remus pushed, Teddy would likely say nothing at all.

Finally, Teddy raised his face and looked at his father, scooting his chair in and leaning his forearms on the table, bending forward as if he had a desperate secret to impart.

"He doesn't want anyone to know how he is, Dad. How--we are. _Queer_. He's afraid of what might happen with his teammates, his family, his friends--everyone he knows, I guess. Seems like he thinks the whole world would be against him if he were seen walking down the street with me holding his hand, or something."

"Ah." Remus sat back, watching Teddy. He should have guessed. So Andrew had an overinflated sense of his own importance in his community--but what young man didn't? His coming out probably wouldn't shake the foundations of his world, but it would be impossible to tell that to him.

Remus knew this not from anything he'd heard, but from his early days with Sirius. _If ever there was a boy with an overinflated ego_ , he thought in half-fond, half-exasperated recollection.

Sirius had been raised to believe that there was only one acceptable fate for him: to be a nice, normal Pureblood boy who married a nice, normal Pureblood girl and who produced several nice, normal Pureblood babies to carry on the family name. When Sirius had realised he was going to do none of these things, even though he'd already begun to split from his family, he had broken down and told Remus he couldn't keep on with their relationship, and he _certainly_ could never go public with it.

Remus had, eventually, talked him down from his frantic state, but they'd been together for quite some time before that moment--not like Teddy and Andrew.

"I don't know what to _do_ ," Teddy said, almost in a wail. "I said I didn't want to see him if that was how he felt--well, that's more or less what I said--and then I told him he knew how to find me if he changed his mind. But now I wish I hadn't, and I don't know how to take it _back_. I really miss him."

He looked absolutely miserable, and it almost broke Remus's heart to see him. Sure, Teddy hadn't known Andrew very long, but that didn't necessarily make any difference to one's feelings.

"When did this happen?" Remus asked gently.

"Last Saturday. After the concert. We went to Andrew's flat, that's when we had the fight." Teddy gulped. "I've been hoping to hear something from him all week, but by Friday, I gave up. I thought maybe you'd had something like this happen to you, and maybe you'd have some ideas for me."

"Oh, Ted." Remus started to reach across the table to take Teddy's hand, but thought better of it. "Come on, let's take our tea into the living room."

Settled on the sofa, Remus put an arm around his son and held him close. "You're right, it's happened to me too. And you know, I could have been in that position myself, except that since I was already a werewolf, I guess being queer didn't seem like as big of a deal--an outcast's an outcast. But if a person has been raised to think of himself as one thing, to think he's only acceptable in one way, it can be very difficult to see that maybe it's not the end of the world if he's not that thing after all."

He told Teddy about Sirius, about how panicked Sirius had been at the realisation that he really genuinely had no interest in girls, that his relationship with Remus wasn't just a school fling--and that after months and months of being together.

"But Andrew told me that he's _never_ liked girls," Teddy protested. "And he's older than I am. How can he not have figured out how to live with who he is?"

Remus finished the last of the tea in his cup and put it down. "Has Andrew ever had a real boyfriend, do you know? Someone long-term?"

"No. I'm almost sure he hasn't. He said--" Teddy stopped abruptly.

"Don't tell me anything personal about Andrew, that's fine," Remus assured him. "I'm just trying to think in general terms, here, how someone in his situation might react, and why. Think about this. Have _you_ told many people about yourself? Other than me and Sam?"

"Well-- _no_ ," admitted Teddy, "but I don't see what that's got to do with anything."

"Why haven't you told your friends?" Remus asked as gently as possible.

"Because--because--" Teddy floundered for a moment, then took a long sip of tea. Remus could almost hear him thinking.

"Because I haven't had a reason to tell them," he finally said. "I thought Andrew would be a good reason--I even said that to him, and he got all upset, as if I were going to give them his Floo address and all of his personal details, or something. I don't want to hide, but I don't want to make some random announcement unless I have to, you know?" He paused. "Unless I have a _reason_ to," he corrected himself, and drained the last of his tea from his cup.

"That's perfectly fine," said Remus, giving Teddy's shoulders a squeeze. "Revelations like this can hurt or confuse some people--probably fewer in your generation than in mine, of course, but there will always be some. Perhaps it's best, in your case, to wait--but then again, perhaps you could set an example for Andrew. Oh, I know he's older than you are," Remus said as Teddy opened his mouth to protest, "but in this instance, I think age is irrelevant."

"So you think I should tell my friends I'm a poof," Teddy said, his voice oddly flat.

"Not a poof," Remus corrected, "but perhaps it would do some good if they did know that you fancy boys. It's up to you, of course, Ted. It's always up to you how much to share, and with whom."

Teddy drew his knees up to his chest and leaned into Remus. "I guess I'll think about that, Dad," he said, though he didn't sound like he planned to give the idea much of a chance.

"You're luckier than you realise, Ted," Remus said after a moment. "Perhaps Andrew's family isn't as understanding as your own. You know as well as I do that there are people out there who aren't accepting of the homosexual lifestyle--"

"Do you really have to call it that?" Teddy turned up his nose, and Remus chuckled.

"All right," he said, "since it's not really a 'lifestyle' anyway. There are people out there who aren't accepting of _our kind_ , is that better?" Teddy nodded, and Remus continued. "Perhaps Andrew's family is like that--or perhaps he just _thinks_ they're like that. It's possible for people to be prejudiced against something until they come face-to-face with it." He thought of all the prejudice he'd met with himself, the way that people stood warily back from him, as if he might turn into a wolf and leap on them right there. The previous bookstore manager had nearly not hired him, and Remus had had to prove himself every day.

"I didn't tell you about myself, remember, until you walked in on Sam and me and it was unavoidable," Remus went on. "Now, that wasn't because I thought you would reject me as your father, but rather because you were at school most of the year anyway, and I didn't want to make your life complicated when it didn't seem that important. I wasn't in any serious relationships, after all. But I think now that I made a mistake by not saying anything for all those years; I set you a poor example by keeping quiet about something that's a big part of who I am."

Teddy twisted his head to look intently at his father.

Remus wasn't sure what Teddy was reading in his face, but he gave a rueful smile. "Your dad's not perfect."

"Do--do _your_ friends know? About you, I mean?" Teddy asked.

"Some of them, yes. The ones I care about the most. Your godfather knows, certainly, and most of the old Order members. I don't think it's necessary to go around announcing my sexuality to random strangers and acquaintances; it's just not relevant, any more than it would be to tell them what flavor of yoghurt I prefer."

"Unless they were going to buy you yoghurt for your lunch," Teddy pointed out.

"Exactly. If someone needs to know, I tell them. And good friends should know the important things about who a person is. If you don't allow them to know, you're not showing much trust, and that suggests that they're not such good friends after all, right?"

Teddy frowned and said, "I suppose so. I guess that means I wasn't that close to you."

"It was a little different with you," said Remus gently. "Because of your age, and because you're my son. I judged it might be a burden you weren't ready for. I'm sorry that it seems I made a mistake in that decision, but don't let that affect what _you_ choose to do, Ted."

With a sigh, Teddy snuggled closer against him. "You really think I should tell people, don't you?"

"I think you should strongly consider talking to a few of your friends, yes." Remus stroked Teddy's hair. "Victoire will probably be the most difficult to tell, but she's one who should know. I don't think you've figured out if you're completely oriented towards men, or if you could be in love with women too, have you? And that's fine. You don't need to know that for sure to say that you're not straight."

"Okay. I suppose I'll have to do it sometime soon, then." Teddy sighed and burrowed into his father's embrace. They sat like that for a while, unspeaking, until Teddy shifted and coughed.

"Hey. Dad. I, um, I used the plugs you bought me."

"Oh!" Remus blinked, taken by surprise. This was certainly an abrupt change of subject--and a subject he hadn't intended to broach again with Teddy for a while. "That's--well. Good for you. How did you like them?"

"Well, I actually only used the smallest one," Teddy confessed, "and I was a little sore afterward, but I might have got a little too excited or something. I used plenty of lube, though, like you said I should."

Remus thought it might be more appropriate to have this conversation without his arm around his son, so he shifted and stretched to put his empty teacup on the side table--that would do for an excuse.

"It's all right if you're a little tender after penetration," said Remus, tucking himself into a corner of the sofa. "In fact, that's to be expected--just as long as the tenderness goes away soon afterward. If you ever experience pain, actual pain, anything that feels like tearing, or any bleeding, you should stop what you're doing right away, all right?"

Teddy grimaced. " _Bleeding_?"

"Use lots of lube, Ted, always, and it probably won't happen."

" _Probably_ won't?" Teddy's voice squeaked. He looked on the verge of panic.

"Oh, Ted," sighed Remus, "there's always the chance of things going wrong during sex--yes, sometimes bleeding, but probably not like you're thinking--but as long as you're careful, and you take your time, and you and your partner are caring towards each other, the chance of accident or injury lessens. Just _think_ \--I know it's hard to do sometimes, especially when your hormones are raging and you feel like you might burst, but think, Ted, and use basic common sense, and you'll be all right. I promise," he added, wanting nothing more than to gather his son in his arms and kiss the top of his head.

"You're sure?" Teddy still sounded a bit frightened. "Did--have you ever been hurt, like, bleeding-hurt?"

Remus nodded. "A few times, but never badly, and it was always just from over-enthusiasm." Although it had been rather terrifying, both for him and for Sirius, the first time it happened, which was actually the first time they'd tried penetration. It had been several months before they worked up the nerve to try again.

Teddy seemed to breathe more easily at that. "I didn't know that could happen. I mean, I knew it could _hurt_ , I guess, but not that there could be bleeding or anything."

"You said you had sex with Victoire, right?" At Teddy's nod, Remus continued, "Well, you know that a girl's, a woman's, vagina produces its own lubrication, but even so if sex is rough, it can tear the tissues and make her bleed a little. That goes about ten times over for anal sex." He managed to say the words without blushing, much to his own surprise. "There's no natural lubrication there at all, so you really need to use plenty of a good lube to keep things slick. You might be tempted sometime to try having sex with just spit, but that's likely to be quite painful, and can even injure whomever is being penetrated. One benefit of being a wizard is that you can always use a charm if you've forgotten real lube, but I think the latter is better, myself."

"Does it last longer, or something?"

"Oh, I don't know. I've just always found it more effective for some reason. That's why I gave you some with the plugs." Remus looked at Teddy. "If you run out, use a charm; don't try using hand lotion or anything of that sort. Some of them have scents or other ingredients that can be very irritating. _Not_ a place where you want an itch you can't scratch."

"No," said Teddy, relaxing a little and smiling. "Definitely not."

Remus smiled back at him. "Anything else you needed to talk about, while we're at it? Wait, let me get some more tea first. Do you want another cup?"

He cast a quick warming charm on the teapot and refilled both their cups, carrying them back to the living room. Teddy had kicked off his shoes and tucked his feet under him, and looked far more at ease than he had when he first arrived, although still a little down at the mouth. Remus supposed he was thinking about Andrew.

"All right," said Remus. "Now we can talk some more, if you like." He handed Teddy's cup to him and settled on the sofa with his own, inhaling the fragrant steam. "Did you have any questions about--oh, anything at all, really. That's what I'm here for--I may not always have the answers, but we can find them out together if that's the case."

Teddy squirmed a little at Remus's last words and busied himself with his teacup.

"Ted?" Had he been too pushy, and stopped Teddy's desire to share? He hoped not; it had been good conversation until now, and he liked knowing that he was helping Teddy along in what must be an awfully confusing new world for him--even if they had put their lessons on hold for a while.

"No, I--it's okay," said Teddy finally, "I was just--I have a question."

"Go ahead," said Remus, sipping his tea.

"Um. It's a question I think you might not like, but please don't be cross, Dad, all right? I just really want to know the answer, because it means a lot to me, okay?" Teddy had turned to face Remus and his brow was furrowed, his voice edging higher.

"Of course I can't promise not to get cross, Ted--I don't know what your question is." That was a lie; Remus had a _very_ good idea of what Teddy was about to ask, and he dreaded having to give him an answer. "I will, however, promise you that I'll answer your question as completely and as honestly as I can, whatever it may be."

"Okay." Teddy took a deep breath and turned away a little, staring into his teacup, tendrils of steam licking his face. There was a pause during which Remus very much wanted to just ask the question _for_ Teddy, but he waited, patient, as a father and a teacher should be.

"Dad, I was just wondering, um," Teddy said finally, "when we might be able to start our lessons again." His voice dropped to a near-whisper as he finished asking his question, and he tucked his feet further underneath him.

Remus tried not to sigh. Teddy's question was exactly what he'd expected it would be, and exactly what he'd hoped it _wouldn't_ be. He'd attempted to put their lessons out of his mind recently, with more success at some times than at others, and he'd been dreading the day Teddy might bring them up again, not least because he'd be lying if he said he wasn't looking forward to the remaining lessons more than a little himself.

"I haven't decided," he said finally, after a pause that felt far too long.

"But we _will_ finish them?" Teddy's voice cracked. "I'm not saying I don't believe you, Dad. Honestly. I just want to know."

Remus's mind raced. He knew that he needed more delay; he wasn't prepared to cope with resuming the lessons quite yet, although it was also important to him to keep his word and do so eventually. The next lesson was toys--there, that was a reason.

"We will. But first I have homework for you," he said. "You said you'd only tried the smallest of the plugs I gave you, right?"

Teddy nodded, his face hopeful.

"All right, then, what I want you to do is gradually--and I do mean _gradually_ \--work your way up to the largest one. Don't rush things and injure yourself because you want the lesson to happen sooner. If it takes till after Christmas, that's probably plenty fast enough." Remus thought that another three weeks might not be enough for himself, but he probably couldn't get Teddy to go any more slowly. "When you've used the large plug several times, and you're comfortable with it, then we can arrange the next lesson."

"Comfortable, you mean like not sore at all?"

"No pain," Remus clarified. "A little soreness afterward is normal." He closed his eyes for an instant, imagining Teddy on his knees, the plug filling him. He cleared his throat and took a sip of tea. "Does that sound fair?"

"Yes," Teddy agreed, with a crooked smile. "Besides, I promised I'd do whatever you told me to do, remember?"

"I remember." Remus shifted slightly, crossing his leg the other way so that Teddy wouldn't see that just thinking about it was beginning to arouse him. "I'll expect to hear that you're ready after Christmas or sometime in January, then."

"Dad?"

"Yes, Ted. What is it?"

"Could I--could I please kiss you?"

Remus choked and spilled a little tea in his lap. He busied himself with brushing it off his trousers, but still it left a spot which he'd have to remember to clean later.

"Why would you want to do that, Ted?" he finally asked, his voice not much more than a hoarse whisper. He refused to let himself think of what a kiss could lead to.

Teddy's lower lip quivered for a moment before he seemed to gain control of himself, and he responded. "Dad, I just--I miss our lessons. I miss _you_. I feel really stupid and really alone right now." Teddy couldn't quite look him in the eyes, Remus noticed--which was fine, because Remus knew that if those eyes met his, he was doomed.

"You feel alone because you miss Andrew," Remus attempted to clarify the situation, but Teddy finally looked at him and shook his head, knitting his eyebrows together and chewing on his lip.

"I mean--that, _too_ ," he said, "I do miss him. But I miss you too, Dad, which is a whole separate thing."

Remus knew he mustn't give in. He told himself in no uncertain terms that that moment would be a very good moment to stand up and excuse himself and go into the kitchen and wash their teacups, or, perhaps better, to go into the bathroom and splash cold water on his face until he could think again. It was a bad, bad idea to stay there in the living room, the lights dim, a low fire crackling in the fireplace, with Teddy so near... all Remus would have to do was shift the littlest bit...

" _No_ ," he finally managed. "Ted, I told you we could be nothing more than father and son. I won't--I _can't_ be your lover. I'm your father, I'm in a serious relationship with Sam. I _can't_." His throat closed up as he protested, and he was barely able to get out the last words.

To Remus's horror, though, he found himself reaching out and caressing his son's neck, just behind his ear. He had meant it to be a fatherly gesture of comfort, but he had misjudged. His touch was too light, and that was one of Teddy's most sensitive spots--how could he have forgotten?

 _Because you wanted to forget_ , his conscience told him, as Teddy shivered under his touch, head turning and lips parting just the slightest bit in tempting invitation. Did Teddy even realise what he was doing? Did it matter if he did?

Now that his hand was on his son's skin, though, Remus could not force himself to draw back, not two days before the full moon. This was the sin of the wolf indeed, this irresistible seduction. His mind might say no, but his body demanded a yes, and Teddy was willing-- _more_ than willing--he was begging for Remus to touch him, kiss him, love him.

"Not my lover. My teacher," Teddy breathed. " _Please._ I need you."

Remus's gut twisted. How often had anyone said that to him? Usually it was Remus who needed someone else; he was accustomed to thinking of himself as a liability, not the opposite. He could _smell_ Teddy's need, his desire evoking an answering hunger in Remus.

" _Ted_ ," he said, his voice strangled, as Teddy edged closer, and then he couldn't speak, for Teddy's hand touched his knee, travelled upward, coming to rest at the juncture of his thighs, just barely brushing against his stiff cock.

He couldn't move. It was as if that light touch were a bond of iron, holding him. Teddy whispered again, " _Please_ ," and finally, reluctantly, Remus nodded, unable to do anything but agree. At his nod Teddy slid onto his lap, thighs spread to press himself against Remus, lips opening to kiss him.

Desire and shame battled as Remus kissed his son, held him close, caressed his shoulders and his back and down to his sweetly curved arse. Was there any way to salvage this, to make it another lesson? Remus might not be able to resist altogether, but perhaps he could control... for long enough to get them to the guest room, at least, where their lessons had always been, where it might feel more impersonal, more teacher-student.

"I'm going to Apparate us," he muttered against Teddy's neck, pausing only an instant for Teddy to understand before he did so, sending them both sprawling across the bed. Teddy's eyes were open, dark, and he reached for Remus, beginning to unbutton his cardigan.

"Wait." Remus caught Teddy's hand, taking in a deep breath. _God._ He _would_ control himself. He would _not_ take his son like this. He would lead Teddy to the brink of orgasm, keep him there, show him the pleasure of torment that he himself was experiencing... and he would _not_ let Teddy bring him off, not if he could avoid it. Perhaps he would feel less guilt, that way, for his own lack of resolve.

"What _is_ it?" Teddy's voice was impatient, and his fingers flexed in Remus's grasp. He edged closer to Remus on the bed.

"Leave my clothes alone," Remus rasped, "We're going to concentrate on you." He wasn't certain he'd be able to restrain himself, but he knew that he must try. Even if it meant coming in his pants, which was something he was afraid he might do. It was better than coming where Teddy could see... on him... _in_ him, oh _god_. _No._

At Remus's touch on his shoulders, Teddy lay back on the bed and began unbuttoning his own shirt, and lay there in his vest and jeans, squirming and thrusting his crotch into the air, as Remus savoured the sight of him, young and tender and waiting... and willing.

Remus sprang into action, then, pulling off Teddy's jeans and his pants, raking his fingers up Teddy's legs to the juncture of his thighs, where his cock strained red against his brown pubic curls. Teddy keened and thrust up, up, and Remus slid his hands under Teddy's buttocks, holding him in place, just where he wanted him.

And he _did_ want him, he wanted him _badly_ , son or not. Teddy was an incredibly sexual being, and Remus thought he couldn't help the way his body reacted to Teddy's, dressed only in a rucked-up vest with a hole at the bottom and writhing, anticipating Remus's hands on his bollocks, Remus's mouth on his cock.

Remus licked the skin at the crease where Teddy's thigh met his groin, and Teddy moaned, reaching down to clutch at Remus's hair with one hand. Remus shook off his touch and licked him again, on the other side this time, framing his cock.

"Dad, please--need it, need _you_ ," Teddy cried. "Dad, I want you to fuck me."

Remus's head jerked up at that, and he scowled at his son.

" _No_ ," was all he could manage, simultaneously horrified and aroused by what Teddy wanted of him. Of _course_ he wanted to fuck Teddy--that shouldn't be an _of course_ , but it _was_ nevertheless--but he couldn't. He couldn't do it _yet_. Teddy's body wasn't ready for it--and neither was Remus's conscience, for he _did_ still have a conscience, nearly buried though it was at the moment under a blizzard of lust.

With his tongue, though, he could, he'd done it before. He bypassed Teddy's cock, his bollocks, lifting his thighs instead, and Teddy cooperated, bending himself nearly in half so that Remus could reach his pink wrinkled hole and gabble the cleaning spell before he speared into it with his tongue. _Yes_ , oh _fuck_ , he loved this, he always loved rimming his partners, and Teddy was so responsive, crying out and rocking onto him, his hands working at his cock...

Remus stopped, wrenched himself up so that he could see Teddy's face. The pause made Teddy open his eyes, panting.

"Don't... touch... yourself," Remus growled, and Teddy's eyes went wide and he nodded at whatever he saw in Remus's face, his hands dropping down to grasp obediently at the duvet instead.

After waiting a moment to make sure Teddy would obey, Remus returned to Teddy's arsehole. Having stopped, he was able to exercise a fraction more control, rubbing over the tight flesh with the breadth of his tongue, letting his saliva trickle inside as the muscle began to relax. He moved as slowly as he could, suspecting that Teddy could come just from this if he weren't careful, and he wanted to delay that as long as he possibly could.

But _god_ it was difficult, with Teddy making such delicious needy noises above him, and his own prick aching. He let himself hump against the bed, just a little, as he licked and sucked and gradually pushed his tongue deeper and deeper into the hot tight channel that quivered under his ministrations.

The sounds Teddy was making were becoming more desperate, filled with almost-indistinguishable words like "please" and "dad" and "love," and Remus pulled away, breathing hard, forcing himself to wait, to make Teddy wait. "No, _please_ ," he heard Teddy whimper, but he tugged Teddy's legs down, licked along the crease of his thighs. Teddy's bollocks were tight and high in their fuzzy sac, and Remus took them gently into his mouth, jostling them just a bit, hearing Teddy gasp.

He stayed there, nuzzling against the base of Teddy's cock but not otherwise touching it, just licking at his balls and holding his legs firmly in place, for as long as he could bear. At last, though, he swept his tongue upward along the hot pulsing length of Teddy's prick, over the ridge of foreskin and up to the slit, where he tasted the thin sharp taste of precome briefly, carefully, not licking firmly enough to let Teddy reach orgasm.

Teddy whimpered, still clutching at the duvet, and he squirmed, and Remus held his legs more firmly, not wanting Teddy to gain any extra friction. The boy wasn't going to come until Remus _let_ him come, dammit.

Remus took the head of Teddy's cock in his mouth, then, and held it for a moment, savouring the dribble of precome that he found there, barely swirling his tongue over it as Teddy continued to whine and whimper and thrust as best he could under Remus's restraint. He worked his mouth over the head and shaft, then, a little more firmly, tormenting Teddy, bringing him close--he could tell, for Teddy's noises increased in volume and in urgency--and then he stopped, taking his mouth off, still holding his son to the bed.

If Teddy wanted to learn, then Teddy was going to _learn_ , dammit. Remus wasn't going to let him come, no matter how much he moved or loudly he keened. Not yet.

Remus released one of Teddy's thighs and brought his hand to Teddy's cock, making a wide loop with his fingers, not quite touching it.

"Dad, oh my god, _please_ ," Teddy demanded.

"Please _what_ , Ted?" Remus increased the pressure on the thigh he was still holding, probably, he thought, hard enough to leave fingerprint bruises. _Good_.

"Please--touch--" Teddy stammered, " _Please_!"

Remus dragged a fingertip over the head of Teddy's cock, dipping into the slit which was welling up with more precome. "Is this what you want, my boy?" His voice was a low rasp, choked with lust and ravaged by the outcome of the decision he'd made with his body instead of with his mind.

"Dad, you _know_ \--I want-- _fuck!_ "

Remus dragged the fingertip down the length of Teddy's shaft, still teasing--no, _tormenting_. There was nothing fun or playful about this anymore, not with the wolf two days away, not with the guilt and shame and arousal all warring inside Remus. Teddy had given him no choice, not really--Remus might never have explained to Teddy the full consequences of lycanthropy, but Teddy had studied Dark creatures in school, he could have, ought to have, known them for himself--and now Remus would give Teddy none.

"I will not fuck you today," he said, denial and promise all in one.

"Then do _something_ , _please_ ," Teddy begged, his body bucking under Remus's restraint, his cock nearly purple, so dark it was with blood.

He would have bitten hard into the soft juncture of hip and thigh, marked Teddy there, but he dared not--Remus never risked that, never. Not with any of his lovers and certainly not with his son. Instead he held even tighter, used his tongue to trace the visible vein on the underside of Teddy's prick from base to tip, feeling Teddy tremble.

"Something?" he breathed as he reached the head, fluttering his lips against the tender flesh. "Oh, something." And then he left Teddy's cock altogether, rising up to rub his face over Teddy's belly, up the mostly-hairless skin of his chest to his nipples. The roughness of stubble on Remus's cheek was enough to make Teddy whimper again, writhing to get more of the sensation.

Teddy's hands clutched at Remus's shoulders now, but Remus hadn't forbidden that. "Can't bear it, _god_ ," he cried.

"You can't bear it?" Remus leaned over Teddy. "Oh, but you can. You will. You wanted to have me at any cost, and now you'll pay the price you must."

A price that was not, in fact, so demanding--merely that of delay, even if to the point of near-pain, Remus reassured himself. This was merely another kind of lesson.

Beneath him Teddy stilled, perhaps at last realising what it was that Remus intended. "Yes." He spoke the word gravely, an admission, an acceptance.

The incipient anger that had lain beneath all that Remus had been doing to Teddy suddenly dissolved. The lust was still there, oh yes, but Remus knew that Teddy understood what it was he had done, why Remus was refusing to let him come, and now Remus could carry on with it as a true lesson, without the same undercurrent of revenge for the guilt Teddy made him feel. He couldn't make himself stop, not now, but his emotions had shifted.

Teddy touched Remus's cheek, an almost-apology, though his body still quivered with unsatisfied desire. "Whatever you demand, I'll pay." His voice was so adult that Remus's throat constricted, and he merely nodded in acknowledgment.

"Good boy." It was nearly a growl, low in Remus's throat, a praise and a warning together. Remus took a moment to reach between his thighs and adjust his cock before he continued, hoping Teddy wouldn't notice what he was doing.

"Dad--I could--"

 _Dammit, of course he noticed_.

" _No_ , Teddy." Remus jerked his hand from between his legs and pinned Teddy to the bed by his arms, holding him just above his elbows. "You told me you'd do as I say, pay the toll I ask, and I haven't asked anything of you yet. I _especially_ haven't asked you to touch me, or to offer to touch me." The low growl seemed to subdue Teddy, so Remus kept at it.

"You, my son, are going to lie exactly where you are. You are not going to touch yourself, and you are not going to touch me. I am going to do what I like to you, when I want to do it, and however I want to do it, and I will bring you to orgasm when _I_ am good and ready, and not a moment before. Do you understand?"

Teddy's eyes were wide, and darker than Remus had ever seen them. He merely nodded, pressing his lips together as if he were trying to hold in emotion. Remus understood. It wouldn't to do be emotional in front of the alpha wolf. Submissive, though--yes. And Teddy was arching his back off the bed ever so slightly, pushing his tender belly up towards his father. Remus wondered if Teddy even realised he was doing it, or if it was from something so deep, so primal, that Teddy did it without knowing.

Remus lowered his mouth to Teddy's tender white throat and sucked at the skin there, not quite biting. Teddy whimpered in the back of his throat, and the noise sent a frisson of need through Remus, one that he did his best to ignore. _Control_ , he reminded himself, _Keep hold of yourself--you can take care of your cock when Teddy's done and gone._

"Now," Remus said, "I told you I wasn't going to fuck you today, and I'm not. But I want you to imagine it for now. Can you? Imagine how it will feel to have my cock buried inside you. It'll be bigger than the plug you used, Ted. You'll ache--you'll burn. Can you almost feel it inside you? Tell me, Teddy."

" _Ohfuck_ ," Teddy gasped, as Remus reached between his legs and ghosted a fingertip across his arsehole. "Yes--full, better than the plug, _god_." His hole twitched, greedy, grasping for Remus's finger.

No time to go searching for lubricant. As he'd told Teddy, charms were less satisfactory, but better than nothing, and Remus murmured one now, feeling the sudden slickness that let his fingertip slip inside, though he stopped at the first knuckle, moving it in tiny circles.

"This is nothing," Remus told him. "The merest taste."

Teddy bit his lip. "Yesss..." he hissed, but he held still, and in response Remus pushed further into him.

"You see that patience will be rewarded," he said, beginning to thrust the single finger slowly in and out, watching the beads of sweat break out around Teddy's hairline.

"...rewarded," Teddy echoed.

"Yes." Remus licked away a salty trickle, ran his tongue down Teddy's neck and when Teddy turned his head, along the tender skin behind his ear. "Talk to me. How does this make you feel?"

"Good. _Ah_." Teddy moaned as Remus found his prostate and brushed over it. " _Fuck_. Not enough. Like the plug I used, I wanted more, wanted to be filled, _fuller_."

"Like this?" Remus withdrew, then reentered with two fingers. Teddy shook. He was close, so close--Remus left both fingers there, but held still.

"That. More even. Ohgod, ohgod, _please_."

"You will wait," Remus reminded him, and Teddy nodded, his eyes squeezed shut. "Keep talking."

Teddy swallowed, hesitated, and then it was as if a dam burst and the words spilled out in a torrent. "Feels so good to have you there, _fuck_ , every move you make makes me burn, like sparks going up my spine, wish it were your cock inside me instead of your fingers, fucking me, opening me, I've dreamed of it wished for it wanted it, know you don't want it the way I do but I want you to be the first, want to remember you taking me, fucking me, loving me even if it's not real, ohfuck, need you so badly, please, please more Dad, please!"

Something bent inside Remus's chest, nearly to the point of snapping, but he clenched his teeth and squeezed shut his eyes and made do with thrusting his two fingers in and out of Teddy's arsehole. _Yes_ , he wanted all of that, too, wanted to be Teddy's first, never forgotten, wanted to be _inside_ him so badly, but he controlled his shuddering breaths and forced himself to concentrate, _concentrate_ and keep moving his fingers. And keep _talking_ , he demanded of himself, lest Teddy guess that something was about to break.

"Another finger, Ted," he growled, and he eased a third into Teddy's arsehole, and Teddy let out a single sob.

"I won't ask you again, Dad, I won't, I _won't_ , I promise," Teddy said over and over again, but Remus knew that asking was exactly what he was doing--begging, even, for Remus's cock to fill him, to relieve him of the burden of his virginity.

But Remus concentrated on his fingers moving and twisting inside Teddy, stretching him nearly as wide as a cock would--as wide as _Remus's_ cock would--but, god, no, he _couldn't_.

"Yes, we _can_ ," whispered Teddy, and that was when Remus realised he'd said that out loud.

"Teddy, you'll _stop_ that," Remus barked, thrusting his fingers in a little harder than he'd intended. Teddy yowled and arched up, impaling himself on Remus's searching fingers.

"Dad, _again_!" Teddy's cock was bobbing up and down, leaking precome that stretched in sticky strands between its tip and his belly, but true to his promise, he still hadn't touched it. He still gripped the duvet so tightly that the veins stood out on the backs of his hands.

Remus thrust into him hard, again, and wished, then damned himself for wishing, that it were his cock instead of his fingers that was making Teddy howl and cry and grip and tremble like that.

"Need you, need you," Teddy chanted, the words coming in an almost indecipherable string now, and Remus _ached_. He couldn't take this anymore. He undid his trousers with the hand that wasn't violating Teddy, freeing his trapped cock, bringing himself one step closer to exactly what he'd promised Teddy--and himself--that he wouldn't do.

And he still wouldn't do it, he told himself, but the voice in his head sounded less and less certain with each passing moment. _No._ If he couldn't... he wouldn't... _No!_ This was not the promised lesson, this was not the time, no matter how much he wanted it or Teddy did, and he _would not_ be ruled by the wolf.

Almost in despair, unable to think of another way to stop himself, he twisted around to bring his head down to Teddy's groin once more. If he let Teddy come, let himself do the same, he wouldn't be able to fuck him. Not tonight.

Pumping his fingers inside Teddy's body, he closed his mouth around Teddy's cock, taking it deep into his throat and swallowing, nearly choking--he hadn't done this often, he was out of practise--and Teddy shouted, his arse clenching around Remus's fingers, his cock jerking as the semen spilled out of it and down Remus's throat. " _Dad!_ "

Remus hadn't come yet. He was so hard, _fuck_ , who wouldn't be, after this, and Teddy was still open to him, still slick with the remnants of the lubricating spell. It would be so easy to take him. He was stretched out, ready... and Remus had promised to do this. _Promised for another time. Not for today._

He growled, torn between lust and honour, wolf and father and teacher vying within him for dominance. He could go ahead and fuck his son. He could pull away, bring himself off, end this now. He could...

He compromised, as he had done so many, many times before that he felt weary just thinking of it.

"Suck me, then," he rasped, rolling over, still clothed, only his cock bared.

Teddy didn't hesitate, for all that he'd seemed to be limp from the force of his orgasm. He growled almost as loudly as Remus had, flinging himself on his father, pulling his trousers further down to press his face to Remus's thighs, nipping, licking, sucking the skin, running his tongue up Remus's cock and engulfing the head in wet warmth.

Remus nearly spent in that instant. He couldn't have said why he held back, except that a moment later Teddy's finger sneaked past his bollocks to rub against his arsehole, and Remus groaned. _There. Yes._ That was what he needed.

"Say the spell, Dad," Teddy pulled away long enough to ask, and Remus did, the cool slickness filling him.

"How many should I--" Teddy began, but Remus interrupted.

"Just _do_ it, Ted." He knew he wouldn't last long after Teddy breached him.

A single finger teased around his entrance, and it took all the strength Remus possessed not to snarl at Teddy to just put the damned thing _in_ , already. He huffed and sighed and thrust into the air, and then simultaneously, and before Remus expected either, Teddy's mouth was around his cock and Teddy's finger was inside his arse, crooking, caressing, and Teddy soon followed it with a second finger, stretching Remus's hole.

Teddy obviously didn't have the first clue what he was doing--the movements of his fingers inside Remus's arse were jerky and uncertain, but Remus didn't care, not then, not with Teddy's tongue swirling around the head of his cock, devouring his dribbling precome, not with Teddy moving his lips down the shaft, trying to take in as much of Remus's cock as Remus had of Teddy's own.

Teddy gagged a little. "Pull back," Remus snapped, and Teddy did. The last thing Remus needed was for Teddy to choke and scare himself and not complete his task.

"One more finger," Remus directed, and then there was a third slim finger probing at his entrance, easing its way in, more slowly than Remus could stand. "You won't hurt me," he groaned, "Ted, _come on_ \--"

And then it was in, and Teddy was fucking him with three fingers and hollowing his cheeks around Remus's cock, and there was no more holding back, and Remus let go of any morality he had left inside him and came with a great shout, pouring himself into Teddy's mouth, feeling the increased pressure as Teddy tried to swallow his load of semen.

Remus swore and thrust up into Teddy's mouth one final time, then pulled away and milked the last emissions from his cock, falling back against the pillows, sweating, panting. He coughed and sighed and cringed when Teddy crawled up alongside him, pressing his naked body to Remus's mostly-clothed one.

"Dad," Teddy whispered.

Remus flung an arm over his eyes, taking a moment before he could answer.

"Dad," said Teddy again. "I--I didn't mean to--"

"You did," Remus said dully. Now that it was over, shame clouded everything, for all that he still could almost feel Teddy's fingers inside him, still wanted more than that. "Don't say you didn't. It demeans us both."

"All right then, I did." Teddy sounded angry and he clutched at Remus's chest. "I _wanted_ you. And you must have wanted me, too. And you made me feel, _god_ , I can't even explain it. This is what I need. _You_. Teaching me. I _know_ you're in love with Sam." Now his voice choked a little. "I understand that. I do. I'm not... not trying to come between you, honestly I'm not."

"How can I believe you, Ted? You're certainly doing a good job at seeming to."

"Because I think I might be falling for Andrew." Teddy gulped. "That's why it hurts so much, that he won't be honest. But you showed me that I have to be honest too."

"You didn't need to tempt me into having sex," Remus forced himself to put it into the plain words, "for that." He took his arm away from his eyes and looked directly at Teddy.

"No. I shouldn't have. You're right, I meant to do it, but I shouldn't have, and I'm sorry. Well, sort of sorry, because it was brilliant for me... and I thought all right for you?"

Remus sighed. "Ted... just because I got off doesn't mean it was all right."

"I know." Teddy scrubbed a hand over his eyes. "And now you'll probably say that we can't ever finish the lessons at all."

"That would probably be the wisest thing to do." Remus paused. "But I've not shown a great deal of wisdom in this whole affair, and I did promise that we would finish. I'm going to add one more condition, though, and I think you can guess what it will be."

"Never to try to seduce you again," said Teddy.

"That's it exactly," said Remus. Teddy reached for him and started to say something, but Remus sat up and began putting his clothing to rights.

"Dad, I'm--"

"Never," Remus interrupted. "Not ever. I don't care what happens. The lessons _will_ stop if you ever again make an attempt to do anything like what you did tonight. Do you understand?" He stood, buttoned and fastened, but still red-faced and tousle-haired.

Teddy was sitting on the bed, his legs crossed. He hung his head.

"Yes," he said. "Yes, Dad. I understand, and I'm sorry."

Remus sighed, then turned and made his way to the door. His stomach rumbled, and he thought of the chicken he'd bought. It was much later than he'd expected to eat.

He turned back. "Get dressed, Teddy, and meet me in the kitchen. I'll start dinner."  



	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teddy decides to try coming out to some of his friends, and ends up bringing one of them home.

Somehow--Teddy was never quite sure how--he and his dad made it through dinner together, sharing a platter of chicken korma and vegetables and decent, if stilted, conversation. He was eager to get back home, to get away from the house where he'd made fools of both himself and Remus, but he thought a little father-son dinner table conversation might help the initial healing.

He wasn't sure if it actually did any good, for when he left, guilt was still gnawing at his insides. Remus had been _so_ angry, not only afterward, but _during_ , and Teddy's arse ached as much as his heart did at the memory.

He'd meant what he said--he certainly didn't want to come between his father and Sam. He _liked_ Sam, and Remus did, too, and clearly they were good for each other. Teddy craved what they had--that casual companionship that he knew must come from being together for a long time, learning all the quirks and foibles of the other person. He had known it couldn't be like that right away with Andrew--with _anyone_ \--but still he craved it.

And wasn't that what he had with his father? Years of history, an intimacy only they could understand... _fuck_. No. Not intimacy. Intimacy implied all sorts of things that Teddy wasn't supposed to want.

Except that he _did_ , dammit. But if he ever reached for it again with Remus, he'd lose... well, everything, probably. His father would cut the lessons off, and he'd probably never trust Teddy again. Teddy swallowed hard. Probably Remus wouldn't trust Teddy for a while now, anyway, even if he had said that they would pick up the next lesson in January.

Was there any way to make the situation better, he wondered. Just time, maybe. If he behaved himself for long enough, didn't push, didn't try to flirt or even talk about topics that could lead into dangerous waters. That included Andrew. Fuck. What was he going to do about Andrew? He supposed that Remus was right, and he should be as honest as he wanted Andrew to be. All right, then. First, he'd tell a few friends, and then he'd swallow his pride and send Andrew an owl.

Teddy found a quill and a piece of parchment, and sat down to write to Victoire. If anyone deserved to know, she did.

Two hours and three cans of beer later, he read through what he'd written one last time. It might not be the perfect way to explain, but he'd done his best to assure Victoire that he still liked her very much, but he'd realised that he was also attracted to blokes, and hoped she'd understand. Also that he was going to be telling some of his other friends, but she was the first, and would she mind not spreading it around yet? That ought to flatter her a bit, Teddy thought, to know that she was the first person he was telling--well, if she thought about it she'd know that there was likely to be _someone_ else who knew, but that was a bit different. It was a good-enough letter, though, and Teddy sealed it before he could rewrite it yet again.

He posted it in the morning, on his way to work. Madam Poyt was in a good humour that day, to Teddy's relief, and the shop was busy enough that he didn't have time to think about either what he'd done or what he planned to do that week.

The Leaky wasn't the favourite place for Teddy's generation, but most of his friends turned up there at least one night a week, and so Teddy went every night, spinning out a couple of drinks to last all evening, waiting to find a good chance to bring up the topic. On Wednesday it happened.

"I can't understand why the Cannons keep Harkiss on as Beater," grumbled Roderick Pye. "He bats like a poof."

"How d'you know that?" Teddy said, his heart pounding. "You can't tell from how someone bats if he flies on the other side of the broomstick."

"'Course I can."

"Yeah? How?" Teddy implied a challenge in his words, and he leaned forward, elbows on the table. "Let's hear it, if you're so certain."

"He bats like a poof, that's all! Little swings, like this--" and Roderick made a dainty motion, setting the three others at the table to laughter--everyone but Teddy, who dismissed his theory with an eyeroll.

"What's so funny?" asked Simon Stewart, shedding his coat and scarf, coming in late as always. He scooted into the booth across from Teddy, and Roderick quickly engrossed himself in his pint.

"Nothing," said one of the others, and Teddy regarded Simon for a moment--small, pale, pretty Simon, whom some of the others wondered about behind his back. Teddy had always defended him, saying that just because he was a little girlish didn't mean he was queer, but now that Teddy's eyes had been opened, he wondered.

He decided to find out.

"Roddy here," he said, gesturing, using a nickname that he knew full well Roderick despised, "was trying to tell us all that he can tell gay from straight, even when the bloke in question is twenty yards up in the air on a broom. What do you say?"

Simon coloured faintly and signalled the waitress, ignoring the question, but when he'd ordered and turned back to the table, Teddy was still looking at him.

"What do you think, Simon?" Teddy repeated, and he got an elbow in his side for his trouble.

"Cut it out, Ted," one of the other boys muttered, but Teddy didn't want to cut it out. He wondered now too about Simon. Not that he was interested--Simon was far too delicate, for one thing, but he was an all right bloke and a loyal friend--but because he thought it might be all right to have someone else in his circle who was like him. He cocked his head to the side and wondered if it would be inappropriate to pull Simon aside and ask him straight out if the rumours were true.

The others had dropped the subject of who was and who wasn't a poof, and were discussing the merits of the Holyhead Harpies' new uniforms, which were more form-fitting than their old ones, a fact that did not escape the attention of the young men gathered there.

Teddy half-listened, laughing when the others laughed, but his mind was on how to tell his friends what he'd gone there to tell them. Perhaps he should start small.

And when Simon excused himself and went into the gents', Teddy saw his chance. He slid off his seat and followed Simon in.

Simon's expression closed off when Teddy stood next to him at the urinals, but there was no one else there, so this would be his best shot.

"Hey, Simon."

"What?" Simon sounded irritated, maybe a bit worried as well.

"I, uh. I didn't mean to put you on the spot, out there, but I do want to know what you think. Can you spot someone who's queer, like Roderick claims? I mean, not _you_ necessarily, but can anyone?" Teddy realised he was beginning to babble, and closed his mouth hard, zipping up his trousers.

"Some people say they can," said Simon slowly. "Gaydar, they call it." He wouldn't meet Teddy's eyes in the mirror as they washed their hands.

"Simon."

"Yeah?"

"Are _you_? Queer, that is?"

Simon froze. "Fuck off."

"No--wait." Teddy grabbed his arm. "I just--I wanted to know because. Um. I am. I think. I'm pretty sure."

"Are you taking the piss?" Simon swallowed. "You went out with _Victoire_ , for Merlin's sake."

"I know."

Teddy was about to continue when the door opened and an older wizard walked in. Teddy let go of Simon hastily. "Later," he muttered, and Simon gave a jerky nod.

They went back to the table, where the conversation had moved on to which witches each boy fancied most. Teddy could feel Simon's eyes on him, speculating.

When the group began to break up, a couple of them begging off because they had to work early in the morning, Roderick having to go meet his girlfriend, Teddy lingered behind, watching Simon wind his scarf slowly around his neck.

"So," he said when it was just the two of them standing by their booth, "um, d'you maybe want to go somewhere? My flat? I mean--" Simon's face had flushed and he'd backed away a little, and Teddy realised what his invitation must have sounded like.

He stepped closer to Simon and hissed in his ear. "I'm not coming on to you, you tit! I just thought--I wanted to finish the conversation we started earlier. You know?" He jerked his thumb towards the gents' by way of emphasis, as if Simon could possibly have mistaken which conversation he meant.

"Yeah, I know," said Simon, and he took another step away and stood there, regarding Teddy. "All right," he said after a moment. "Where do you live?"

They walked to Teddy's flat, bracing themselves against the December wind. Teddy shoved his hands deep in his pockets and wished he'd thought to bring gloves. Simon, on the other hand, was seemingly oblivious to the cold, wrapped as he was in a thick woollen coat and scarf, cap pulled down over his blond curls and gloves on his hands.

When they entered Teddy's flat, Simon just stood in the doorway for a moment.

"Well, come in if you're coming in, then," said Teddy, taking off his coat and hanging it up. He went into the kitchen to get a couple of beers, though probably Simon had had plenty at the Leaky--Teddy knew he certainly had, himself, but he also knew that awkward conversations were often smoothed by the presence of alcohol.

"You can sit. If you like." Teddy handed one of the beers to Simon and took a seat at one end of his sofa.

"Listen, Ted," said Simon, sitting at the other end, "I didn't mean to be so--I don't know, back at the Leaky? You surprised me. I didn't exactly expect to hear that coming from you."

"I know," said Teddy, wiping his palm on his jeans, "I didn't exactly see it coming, myself. The conversation _or_ , you know, the other thing. The, um, queer thing."

"So you are."

"Yeah. Like I said. Pretty sure."

Simon studied the label on his beer. "And you're talking to me about it because you think I am too."

"Well... yeah," Teddy admitted. "I mean, I've never known you to go out with a girl."

Simon gave a kind of sideways smile. "Maybe I'm just discreet about it."

"Maybe. I guess it doesn't matter, anyhow. At least you don't seem to be wigged out about me." Teddy took a long drink, the cool liquid comforting. "I hoped you wouldn't be."

"Why'd you want to tell me?" Simon asked.

Now _that_ was something Teddy wasn't going to explain. He fumbled for something to say. "It seemed like the thing to do. You know. Honesty the best policy and all that."

One eyebrow went up skeptically. "Right. Try again, Ted."

Teddy realised that Simon still thought this was some kind of come-on. He'd have to tell the truth; some of it, at least. "I... well. I kind of met someone. If you're discreet, he's positively secretive. So I thought that maybe if I came out, he might be more okay about us."

Simon laughed. "Sorry. Not trying to make fun of you, but if he really does want to hide, I don't think _you_ being more open is going to help."

"Maybe not, but if he's _that_ repressed, really, and not just nervous about it, then I'd have a hard time being with him. So I'm hoping that maybe me telling people and showing him that it's not that bad would convince him." Teddy bit his lip. He hadn't really thought about the possibility that this might backfire with Andrew, that Teddy coming out would make it _less_ likely Andrew would.

"Okay," Simon said after a pause. "Well, for what it's worth, yes. What you asked me in the loo."

Teddy found himself grinning with relief. "You are?"

"Yeah." Now Simon seemed a little nervous about the admission. "But most people don't know, okay? Roderick, most of them. And I'm fine with that."

Teddy nodded. "Okay. I can keep a secret."

"Yeah, apparently," Simon laughed. "I'd honestly never have guessed it, not in a hundred years, Ted. I mean... _Victoire_. She's almost enough to make _me_... well." He smiled.

"Yeah," said Teddy, picking at a loose thread at the hem of his shirt. "I wrote her a letter and told her. All a part of this openness thing, you know?"

"Has she written back?"

"Not yet." Teddy frowned. "Probably she needs a few days to get used to the idea. I mean, it's been a while since we broke up, but still. And I guess she's busy with school and everything." He trailed off, not liking the way he sounded as if he was making excuses, rationalising the fact that he hadn't heard back from Victoire.

"Anyway," said Simon, "Good for you. Who else have you told?"

"Um, you. And, well, An--the bloke I told you about. Um, and my dad."

Simon's eyebrows flew up. "You told your _dad_?"

Teddy huffed out a breath. "Yeah. I did." He wasn't really up for explaining the whole situation to Simon--well, he wasn't up for explaining the _whole_ situation to _anyone_ , really.

He turned the tables on Simon. "Do your parents know?"

"My parents are divorced. I haven't seen my dad in ages, so I'd be shocked if he even knew when my birthday is. My mum hasn't got a clue. She keeps asking me when I'm going to meet a nice girl." Simon set his empty beer can on the coffee table and shrank into the sofa cushions, tucking his feet underneath him.

Teddy frowned. He hadn't known that about Simon.

"Maybe we could set your dad and my mum up together, then she'd leave me alone," Simon laughed. "She needs a boyfriend as badly as I do."

"He's seeing someone, actually," Teddy said. Simon didn't need to know that Remus liked men too. "Do you really need a boyfriend that badly?" He'd been so careful to make sure Simon didn't think Teddy was making a move on him, but was Simon hinting that he'd like that, now that he was sure Teddy was really queer too?

"Well..." Simon shrugged. "It'd be nice, that's for sure. It's kind of hard to meet likely prospects. You know that." He curled up tighter, his pale blue eyes solemn as he looked at Teddy. "You had Victoire at school. How'd you figure out you liked boys, anyway? Where did you meet the bloke you mentioned? I've always known I was gay, and I never seem to be able to find anyone."

"I've kind of known for over a year," Teddy said awkwardly. He didn't want to tell Simon about the boys he'd gotten off with at Hogwarts; he was fairly sure that none of them had been doing it for anything more than the physical release, because they didn't have girlfriends at the time or were fighting with them or whatever, so it wasn't as if any of them could be prospective boyfriends for Simon anyhow. Plus, he didn't want to make Simon feel badly that Teddy had had Victoire _and_ boys at school, when it sounded as if Simon hadn't really had anyone. He could tell a partial truth, though. "I, uh, started noticing someone in the showers, and wanked over him. A lot."

A smile tugged at Simon's lips. "Adrian Sowerby."

"Yeah," Teddy admitted, only slightly surprised that Simon had guessed. Adrian was by far the handsomest wizard in their year, and a lot of people had been surprised that Victoire had chosen Teddy over him. On the other hand, he was a total tit as a person and barely scraped passing marks, and Victoire had good taste, if Teddy did say so himself.

"Me, too. But he's completely straight and a prat besides." Simon flicked his fingers. "Not worth it. So. Tell me about this bloke. Did he come into Slug & Jiggers?"

Teddy shook his head. "No, I met him at a pub. Not the Leaky, somewhere else, after a Quidditch match. He's a few years older than we are." That all seemed safe enough. Nothing to give Andrew's identity away there.

"And you like him, I can tell," said Simon, his voice slightly wistful. "Lucky Ted."

"Not so lucky if he's not willing for anyone at all to know he's gay." Teddy swallowed.

"Maybe not," said Simon, and he shrugged. "At least it's a start, I guess."

"Yeah, I guess," said Teddy, and they lapsed into silence.

"Have you--" Simon began, then stopped, and Teddy looked over at him. Simon's cheeks had turned pink.

"What?"

"You and--your boyfriend, or whatever he is--sorry, it's a bit personal. Maybe I should go. I don't want to make things weird." Simon stood. "Thanks for having me over, Ted. See you around."

"Wait!" Teddy stood, too, and he shoved his hands in his pockets, embarrassed by Simon's sudden departure and by his own show of emotion. "I mean, you don't have to go," he said, a little more quietly, keeping his voice even. "If there's something you wanted to ask, then ask. I just shared my biggest secret with you, so I don't see what could be so embarrassing."

 _Liar_ , said a little voice in the back of his head, _that's hardly your biggest secret_. Teddy ignored his conscience and smiled at Simon, who was wavering near the door.

"Well," Simon finally said, "I guess I don't have anywhere better to be."

"Oh, _thanks_ ," replied Teddy, laughing, "Glad to know I'm your first choice." He shoved Simon a little. "Sit down, you arse."

Simon did, and this time he didn't tuck himself into the corner. He seemed more relaxed, sitting back against the cushions, one ankle crossed over his knee while Teddy fetched them another couple of beers.

"Now," Teddy said, sitting, "What was it you wanted to ask me? Have he and I _what_?"

" _You_ know," said Simon, and he made a lewd gesture.

"Oh," said Teddy. He thought he really should have seen that one coming. "Um, not--not in the traditional sense, no."

"Not in the traditional sense?"

"Well, have _you_?" Teddy retorted.

Simon shook his head. "I told you, I don't even have a boyfriend right now."

"Could've had a one-night stand," Teddy said. "But yeah, I wouldn't want to do that either, not for my first time."

"So, uh, what did you mean, not in the traditional sense, then?" Simon asked again.

Teddy could feel his face growing hot, and took a gulp of beer to cool down. "Um. Fingers. Tongues."

" _Tongues_?" Simon's voice was both shocked and eager. "Wow. _There_? I mean, sucking a bloke off, that's one thing--"

"And a very fine thing," Teddy interrupted.

"Yeah, but _fuck_." Simon looked extremely impressed. "He teach you how to do that?"

Teddy gave a one-shouldered shrug. "We did it to each other." Which was true. Remembering, his cock responded and he gave a little wriggle, trying to adjust himself without looking like he was doing so.

"Wow," Simon repeated. He drank from his beer, then traced a pattern on the can with his thumb. Teddy remembered that from school; Simon always doodled on the edges of his parchment when he was nervous. Before he could decide what Simon might be nervous about, though, Simon had put down his beer and rested a hand on Teddy's leg, about halfway up his thigh. "Just--for fun? I know you like this bloke, whoever he is, but maybe...?"

Simon really wasn't Teddy's type, but he was a friend, and his hand felt awfully good on Teddy's leg, and he was _here_. "Okay. Just for fun." Teddy scooted closer to him. Simon tasted of beer when they kissed, and his mouth was soft, almost like Victoire's, but when Teddy slid a hand under Simon's shirt he found rather more curly hair than he expected on that narrow chest.

"Ohh," sighed Simon, and Teddy, encouraged by Simon's response, rubbed his thumb over one of Simon's nipples, which stood at attention almost immediately.

Simon broke the kiss. "That's brilliant," he breathed.

"That's nothing," Teddy replied, and he put his arms around Simon and lowered him to the sofa cushions, kissing him all the while.

It was strange; both Remus and Andrew were taller than Teddy, and they had broader chests and shoulders. Holding Simon was different; he was smaller, fine-boned, and Teddy was at first disconcerted by the switch. He was used to being the smaller one, but maybe this was okay, he thought, as he licked at Simon's neck, eliciting a shudder and a moan from him.

He kissed Simon again, then, and they both moved slowly, nothing frantic about their movements.

Teddy wondered if they should maybe stop what they were doing and go into the bedroom, where they would have more room to thrash about and where it was darker, but then he thought that if they were really doing this _just for fun_ , the bedroom might be too intimate, too serious. No, the sofa was fine, if a bit cramped.

"Do you want to maybe, um," he said between kisses, and he tugged at the hem of Simon's shirt. "Off?"

Simon nodded and sat up and pulled his shirt over his head, and Teddy knelt up and did the same, covertly admiring Simon's build as he did so. He wasn't actually half as girly as Teddy had always thought--but then, maybe that had something to do with the fact that he was half-naked on Teddy's sofa.

Simon reached for Teddy with one hand and Teddy took it and allowed himself to be pulled back down. They resumed their kissing, still unhurried, though if Teddy's growing erection had any say in the matter, they'd be speeding things up soon enough.

He shifted against Simon, trying to see if maybe Simon's cock was responding, too. Not that he was worried. He'd managed to seduce his _father_ , for god's sake ( _don't think of that, stop thinking of that_ ). But he wanted Simon to enjoy himself, too.

 _There._ Yes, Simon was indeed hard, Teddy realised as they rocked together, each with a thigh thrust through the other's legs. Good. Teddy put his hand on Simon's chest again, exploring, liking the way that Simon hissed as Teddy rubbed over each nipple. He backed away a bit, enough that he could lower his head and taste the pink circles.

"Mm," Simon breathed, stroking Teddy's hair back. "Oh, that's _fine_."

Teddy raised his head and grinned. "One thing I learned with Victoire."

Simon gave a gulping laugh. "Hadn't thought of that, although I imagine she's less, um, furry." He reached down to touch Teddy's smoother chest, his thumbnail scraping lightly. "Feel nice?"

"Oh yeah." Teddy caught his breath as Simon's hand moved lower. "You can undo them," he said when Simon reached his trousers, and Simon did, stroking along the faint trail of hair that led to the elastic of his pants, sliding his fingers underneath to cup the damp head of Teddy's cock. Teddy fumbled at the zipper of Simon's trousers, and Simon obligingly lifted his hips a little so that Teddy could pull the bunchy fabric away.

Maybe it was just as well that they were on the sofa, with more light, because it was nice to see Simon's cock, Teddy decided. Simon might be on the small side in general, but he was by no means under-endowed; bigger than Teddy was, in fact, if not by very much. Teddy ran a finger along the hot length of it, enjoying the feel, then brushed over Simon's bollocks.

"Kind of awkward with our trousers still half-on," Simon pointed out. "And shoes."

"Yeah, true." Teddy rolled away and yanked off his shoes, not bothering to untie the laces, and wriggled out of his trousers and pants although he didn't bother taking his socks off. It wasn't that warm in the flat anyhow, although touching Simon was warming him up. He paused a moment, then turned all his hair bright red, just for fun. Simon laughed.

"I've always thought that was cool. Hey, wait--you can change other things than your hair colour, right?" He gave Teddy a wicked little grin. "Like size and shape?"

"Only up to a point. And it doesn't actually feel the same if I try to make my cock much bigger. I've never figured out why not, though," Teddy said. "But for a minute, just to show you." He concentrated, and his cock lengthened to almost a quarter again its usual size, and thickened in the same proportion. Simon touched it, his eyes questioning, and Teddy shook his head. "Feels more like regular skin, somehow." He let his cock shrink back as Simon held it, the sensation increasing as he resumed his natural proportions.

"Ohh," he moaned, and Simon smiled.

"Better?"

"Oh, _so_ much better. Here, though--let me just--" and he sank down beside Simon so they could touch each other and kiss at the same time, face to face on the sofa, Teddy's back against the cushions.

Simon laughed into the kiss. "You'll have to hold me up, I think, or I'll fall off the front."

Teddy was more than glad to oblige. He slipped one arm under Simon, holding him about his waist, and continued touching Simon's cock with the other, teasing up and down its length while Simon did the same to him.

Hoping that Simon was in an adventuresome mood, but not knowing how far he'd gone before with anyone else, if at all, Teddy opened his legs to give Simon better access to--well, to whatever Simon wanted access to, really.

Simon took the bait, his hand creeping down to tickle Teddy's bollocks. Teddy hoped that wouldn't be as far as Simon went, though he also wished that Simon had both hands free, the better to stimulate him. He'd take what he could get, though.

"It's okay?" Simon whispered between kisses, and Teddy just nodded and captured Simon's mouth again, thrusting towards Simon's caresses.

Simon shifted, then, mirroring Teddy's movements, opening his own legs a little, and Teddy took his time getting his hand down Simon's cock and onto his bollocks, then scraping a fingernail just behind them.

"Fuck, _Ted_ ," gasped Simon, "Will you do that again?"

Teddy kissed Simon and smiled into the kiss, caressing him just behind his bollocks once again, then moved further back. Simon tensed, and Teddy kissed him harder, but he still remained rigid.

"It's okay," Teddy said, "We don't have to." He went back to playing with Simon's balls, rubbing his thumb over the loose skin there, then back up to Simon's cock, which was still rigid.

"Sorry," gasped Simon as Teddy thumbed over the head of his cock, "I just--you know, um, I wasn't planning on doing this tonight, exactly."

 _Oh_.

"There's a spell," Teddy murmured. "I could show you, if you'd like--?"

Simon bit his lip and nodded.

Teddy said, "Hang on, I need my wand. In my trousers."

"I'll get it," said Simon, and did a kind of backbend off the sofa to grab Teddy's clothes and find his wand in the pocket, handing it to him.

"Thanks." Teddy kissed him again and manoeuvred the wand so that the tip pointed at Simon's arse. " _Ablue_ ," he said distinctly. "That's the cleaning spell."

Simon blinked. "I think--yeah, that kind of tingled? So I guess it worked."

"Then-- _lubricio_. I'll do me, too." Teddy repeated the spells, feeling a frisson followed by slickness, and Simon mouthed the words after him.

"Those are good to know. I'll have to practise them."

"Yeah." Teddy grinned. "Not so good if you happened to date a Muggle, I suppose, but that's not something I'm fussed about just now."

"Hm, me either." Simon took the wand back from Teddy and dropped it on the floor, then slipped his hand back around Teddy's prick.

Teddy reciprocated, pumping Simon's cock for a few strokes before he moved lower once again, whispering, "Okay now?" as he rubbed Simon's perineum. At Simon's shaky nod, he brushed a fingertip gently over the pucker of Simon's arsehole.

"Oh, _yeah_." Simon sounded dazed. His cockhead was wet, leaking against Teddy's stomach.

"Hold us both together," Teddy suggested, although he still hoped Simon might try touching Teddy's arsehole too. Maybe in a few minutes, if they lasted that long.

"Oh. Okay," said Simon.

The feel of Simon's cock against his own was exciting, but the sound Simon made as Teddy wriggled his fingertip inside was even more so. He keened and pushed down against Teddy's finger.

"More," he gasped, "please?" He continued moving his hand up and down their cocks in an uncoordinated rhythm, and Teddy nodded and pushed his finger further into Simon's arsehole, up to the knuckle. He wriggled the tip of his finger, and Simon swore and jerked and moved his hand faster, and before Teddy realised what was happening, Simon was coming, dribbling sticky fluid onto his cock and onto Teddy's as he wanked them both together.

"Oh, fuck, oh _fuck_ ," chanted Simon as he came, and Teddy thrust against him, encouraging him, still wriggling his fingertip inside his arsehole.

"Oh, my god," said Simon after a moment, "I didn't mean to! Not so soon, anyway."

Teddy slipped his finger from Simon's hole and embraced him. "You kidding me? That was _hot_."

Simon grinned lazily. "Yeah? Well, thanks to you, really. Um--do you want me to--?"

Teddy nodded, still thrusting himself against Simon's belly, his cock sticky with Simon's seed. "Yeah, I mean, when you can. Take your time." His thrusting belied his casual tone, he knew, and he hoped that Simon would get the message.

And, thank god, Simon did, trailing his fingertips through the come that coated Teddy's cock. "Here, sit up," he said, and Teddy did, his legs spread wide. Simon moved to kneel on the floor before him. "Move to the edge," he said, and Teddy shifted, hanging his arse over the edge of the cushion to give Simon better access.

Simon smeared his hand through the come on his belly and cock and wrapped his hand around Teddy's erection, and Teddy groaned and let his head drop against the sofa cushions. "Fuck, Simon, that's amazing," he gasped, and it _was_ , especially knowing what Simon was using for lubricant.

There was a finger at his entrance, then, scraping tentatively over it, and Teddy groaned and relaxed his hole as Simon eased the very tip of his finger inside it. " _Yesss_ ," he encouraged.

"'S _tight_ ," said Simon wonderingly, and pushed further in. "And _soft_."

His other hand was still moving on Teddy's cock, giving a little twist each time he came to the head. Teddy was close, close, but he wanted more. "Another finger," he begged. "Please?"

"If you're sure? Okay." Simon pulled out, then went in again with two fingers. "Like that?"

Teddy answered with a groan, pushing himself down against Simon. "God--yes--ohhh, I'm gonna, gonna come!" And he did, in sticky spurts, as Simon's fingers brushed over his prostate and Simon's other hand tugged at his cock.

"That's weird," Simon murmured and slid his fingers out of Teddy's arse.

Blinking languidly, Teddy peered at him as Simon rose and crawled back onto the sofa. "What's weird?"

"When you came. You squeezed my fingers. It felt funny, that's all, I didn't expect it." Simon rubbed his thumb in the splatters of come on Teddy's stomach. "Guess I never thought about those muscles."

"Mm." Teddy put an arm around Simon. "Yeah. It felt really good to me, though. Thanks." He still didn't fancy Simon as a boyfriend, but he'd definitely enjoyed this.

"Me too." Simon's ears had gone pink. "I haven't--I mean, it's been a long time since I messed around with anyone. I'd almost forgotten how much better it is than wanking."

"Yeah. Definitely more fun," said Teddy. He thought about saying that they could maybe do it again sometime, but he didn't want to make it sound like he wanted it to be more than the _just for fun_ they'd agreed on. And anyway, they _could_ do it again sometime, without having to say they could, right? For now, though, it was good enough just to know that he had a friend who knew he was queer, and who was himself at least semi-out, if not to his mother or the blokes likely to tease him about it. Maybe Simon would be willing to go to a gay club with Teddy, sometime--if there were two of them, it would be less intimidating.

"Do you ever go out?" he asked and Simon blinked at him.

"To the Leaky, yeah. You know that. Or--what do you mean, 'out'?"

Teddy shifted on the sofa, but kept his arm around Simon's shoulders. "I mean to clubs. For, you know, blokes like us. There are lots of them, lots more than I ever expected, anyway. I just wondered if you ever went. Thought maybe we could go together sometime."

"No," said Simon, and he bent forward and rummaged in the heap of clothing on the floor for his pants, then stood, tugging them on. "If I went to clubs, I'd've had a boyfriend by now, don't you think?"

Teddy frowned as Simon began dressing--he'd been so comfortable, but now he supposed he should get dressed as well. He reached for his t-shirt and wiped the come from his stomach with it, then pulled on his jeans, neglecting his pants, and flopped back down upon the sofa.

"I guess," Teddy said. "Yeah, I don't doubt you'd have about seven."

Simon laughed and rolled his eyes at this, pulling on his own jeans, and followed Teddy's lead, leaving his shirt off and sitting on the sofa again. "Maybe not seven," he said.

"Would you maybe be interested in going sometime? I mean, not as a date, or anything--not that this wasn't fun--shit, I mean--"

"No, it's okay," said Simon, interrupting Teddy's babbling. "I know what you mean. And this was just for fun, anyway. Yeah, we could go sometime. That could be fun. Which clubs do you like?"

Teddy bit his lip. "I've never, um, actually been to any."

Simon made a face at him. "Then how do you know there are so many?"

Teddy laughed. "Research! You were a Ravenclaw; you should've got that one right away."

"Humph." Simon rolled his eyes and stuck an elbow in Teddy's ribs. "Okay, then. So if there are lots, which are they?"

"Lots of Muggle clubs," Teddy clarified. "I only know of a couple for wizards. Charon, for one."

"That club on the corner of Amor Alley? Kind of a dodgy area, I've always heard."

"People probably call it dodgy because the customers are queer," Teddy pointed out. "It looks fine from the outside, no different really from the Leaky or the Three Broomsticks, certainly better than the Hog's Head. Or would you rather go to a Muggle club?"

"No," said Simon thoughtfully. "I mean, I did all right in Muggle Studies--"

"You got an 'O,' you prat, I remember," Teddy interrupted. "'All right,' hah."

"--but I think I'd be more comfortable in a Wizarding place to start with," Simon finished as if Teddy hadn't spoken. "Wouldn't you?"

"I think so," Teddy agreed. "And hey, one thing is that anyone there must be queer too, right? So they might be surprised, but they're not going to call names or think any less of us for being so too."

"I imagine not." Simon fidgeted with his shirt. "Although I'm sure it's like any social group. Those who are in, those who aren't. You know how that goes."

Simon had always been on the fringes, Teddy knew that. Never the centre of things, sometimes joked about a little more than was kind. Teddy had been more popular, although it wasn't something he'd paid much attention to, just accepted as the way of things. Now he realised how much that had doubtless undercut Simon's confidence.

"Two of us together, we should be just fine," he said stoutly, promising himself silently that when they went, he'd stick by Simon, not leave him alone or let anything bad happen to him. Simon was too good a person for that. He put his hand on Simon's knee and squeezed it.

"Yeah." Simon laid his hand over Teddy's. "Yeah. It'll be good to go with you." He looked at the clock on the wall. "Bugger, it's after midnight. I'd better get going." Pulling his shirt on hastily, he grabbed his shoes and shoved his feet into them. "I'm--I'm glad you told me, Ted, and thanks. Send me an owl or something about going out to that club, okay?"

"Definitely," said Teddy, "Maybe this weekend?"

Simon nodded. "I think I'm free, but owl me, and I can make sure. I'll see you later," he said, putting on his coat and hat and winding his scarf around his neck again. Teddy crossed the room and the two of them stood awkwardly in the doorway for a moment.

"So, um--okay," said Teddy, and he reached out to smack Simon on the shoulder in a very blokey and not at all homosexual-type way, despite what the facts might have been, but Simon mistook Teddy's gesture and hugged him, and a moment later, Teddy said _oh_ and he fell into the embrace as well.

Hugging was kind of nice, he reflected, after their brief and stilted embrace, when Simon had left. He could get used to hugging.

He closed the door and leaned against it, then sighed.

"What a bloody bizarre night," he said aloud, and a minute or two later, he made his way to the bedroom, collapsed onto the bed, and fell asleep, still wearing his jeans.

Teddy was awakened in the morning by a tapping at his window. He sat up, rubbing his bleary eyes, cracking his back. Bloody owls, delivering at unfuckinggodly hours of the morning.

He didn't recognise the owl, but that didn't mean anything--not many of his friends had their own owls, and nor did his dad. It looked like it could have been one of the Hogwarts school owls, and that was when it dawned on him who the letter was probably from.

" _Victoire_ ," he said as he arose and made his way to the window. The letter was, indeed, from Victoire; her looping handwriting covered the envelope, betraying nothing of what the contents might be.

Teddy decided it was too early to deal with the letter just yet, so he made his way to the kitchen with it shoved in his pocket, and made some tea, letting the steam awaken his senses.

"All right," he said aloud, steeling himself, and he pulled out the letter and opened the envelope.

 _Dear Teddy,_

She _would_ call him "Teddy" and not "Ted," but at least the "Dear" was promising.

 _It sounds as if you have been rather busy this autumn, or do I misunderstand?_

Teddy groaned. Trust Victoire to think that him being queer meant he'd been sleeping his way around Wizarding Britain.

 _I have no such exciting news to share with you in return. I cannot say it was altogether surprising, once I stopped to think about it, though. You were more of a challenge than the other boys; I think that is part of the reason why you interested me. (As well as being an interesting person, even though we had known each other since we were tiny children.)_

Hm. He wondered if that were really true, or if Victoire were indulging in a certain amount of self-blindness. Hindsight and 20/20 vision and all. But maybe it was. Girls were odd, especially girls who were one-eighth Veela.

 _Since you asked, I'll tell no one here for the time being, but if you are going to be telling other friends, it will of course reach Hogwarts eventually and then I shall say that I already knew. It will give me a cachet._

Fair enough. Teddy could picture Victoire looking mysterious and knowing, whispering to the other girls. And she might be right.

 _I have been seeing Geoffrey Camborne, you will remember him, the Hufflepuff Beater, but he's becoming tiresomely possessive. You were far better about that (I suppose now I know why!). I think I'll break up with him before the Christmas holidays and get it over with. Uncle Harry will have his usual Boxing Day party, I imagine, so I'll hope to see you then. We can talk properly in person._

Has your taste in clothes improved since you've realised you're queer?

Fondly,  
Victoire

Teddy rolled his eyes at the last sentence, although he knew she meant it as a joke. Well, that was far better than he'd hoped for. Perhaps this entire coming-out thing wasn't going to be bad at all... although there were those like Roderick whom he hadn't tackled yet. He drank a long draught of his cooling tea.

 _If you are going to be telling other friends_ , Victoire had written, _it will of course reach Hogwarts eventually_...

Yes, that was true. Everything eventually did. And, he assumed, the news would eventually reach his less accepting friends. Maybe he wouldn't have to make a big announcement to Roderick and his ilk after all. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth. Was that really the right course of action to take? He knew the things they'd said about Simon when Simon wasn't around, and how they would all laugh and laugh. No, he knew he didn't want that.

Maybe, he decided, being confronted with the reality of _Teddy Lupin_ being queer would make them rethink their attitudes.

He snorted at his own egotism and finished his tea. No, probably not.

There was really only one way to find out, of course, but Teddy wasn't sure he felt up to it. He was exhausted from the previous night's exertions with Simon, and besides, it was time for him to start thinking about showering and shaving and going to work. It wouldn't do to be late, no matter what.  



	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a bad full moon transformation, Remus reminds Teddy that he's expected for Christmas. Sam convinces Remus to attend a holiday party with him, and rewards him afterward.

There had been only a few times in his life when Remus had ever felt grateful for the presence of the full moon.

This was one of them.

He was so ashamed of what he'd done, so angry with himself ( _and with Teddy_ , he told himself, but he knew it was his own damned fault) that he was grateful for the chance to escape the body that had so betrayed him, and grateful for the chance to inflict harm upon that body. He knew he'd hurt the next morning, since he always did. Good. He deserved it.

They were self-destructive thoughts, and he knew that, but he gave in and let himself sink into them as the sun set and the sky turned orange. He'd have to go downstairs soon, and lock himself in, but for the moment, he let himself wallow in his shame, as he'd been doing since the moment Teddy left. No--since before that, since right after Teddy made him come. _Dammit_. No time to think about that now, no time to think about Teddy. He had to prepare for the night.

Remus locked himself in the cellar in preparation for his transformation, sitting huddled in the corner.

Yes, he'd hurt tomorrow, but torn skin could be healed and aching muscles could be soothed. The physical pain would, at the very least, distract him from the shame and anger that were eating at his insides.

He had almost been tempted not to take the Wolfsbane Potion, but he wasn't _quite_ that much of a fool. Or perhaps he was enough of one to want to retain human consciousness, to remember each moment of agony clearly. In any case he had drunk the noxious stuff, as he always did.

The first sharp cramp seized him, and he welcomed it with a ragged moan. Pathetic that he was now safer as a werewolf locked up than as a human father. His cries changed to whines as his body reshaped itself, until he was crouched in a shivering furry ball. Normally he slept much of the night, these days, between the potion and the lack of anything to stimulate his canine senses in the cellar, but tonight he paced the length of the room, his claws clicking on the floor, pausing occasionally to scratch at himself, his long curving nails drawing blood that matted his fur together. He retained enough sense--and sense of pain--not to inflict any incapacitating wounds, but the injuries he gave himself satisfied something in him, a kind of restitution made.

Sometime in the last hours before dawn he stumbled and collapsed and slept for a brief while, awakening only to the pain of re-transformation. Red claw marks, some still oozing blood, all of them puffy and inflamed, lacerated the skin of his torso and limbs. Instinct had kept him from biting or scratching too near his genitals, though there was a long gash on his left thigh. Remus winced as he pulled on his dressing gown, thankful that the need to rut had gone with the moon's setting.

He unlocked the door and walked heavily up the stairs. No work for him today. He could rest, if he wanted, but the oblivion of sleep held no appeal for him just now. He made tea and after a moment tipped a large dollop of whisky into his cup. As long as he was reasonably sober by late afternoon, in case Sam came by, who cared?

By noon, however, Remus's better judgement had reasserted himself. He'd taken a shower, dabbed healing ointment onto his injuries, and settled down in one of his office armchairs to try to think rationally about himself and Teddy and the entire situation.

If it hadn't been just before the full moon, he didn't think he'd have succumbed to his son's enticement. Not that that was an excuse, of course, but it meant that he could handle the final two lessons. Probably. He hoped. Once those were finished, there would be nothing to worry about, as long as he made things very clear to Teddy--which should not be impossible. Remus wondered if Teddy was going to take his advice about telling some of his friends that he was queer; if he did that, Remus suspected that Teddy might find he had plenty of social opportunities and no need to turn to Remus any longer, and that could only be to the benefit of them both.

In the meantime, there were the holidays to get through. Christmas was only eleven days away. Remus had invited Sam to spend the day, of course, and only yesterday he'd received Harry's invitation to his annual Boxing Day party; he'd ask Sam to go to that, too. Remus would be attending one of Sam's charitable dos, tomorrow was it? No, Friday. Good, he should be mostly recovered by then. He touched the gash on his cheek. It wouldn't do to have anyone think Sam had caused that, but werewolf injuries didn't respond well to the usual wizard healing potions.

If it hadn't healed by Friday, well, Sam was all right with a pot of makeup. He'd learned to disguise himself well enough to get through the stage door after a concert without being besieged by fans, so covering a wound would hardly be a challenge for him. He'd done it for Remus before when Remus had no choice but to appear in public too soon after his transformation, and though Remus didn't exactly fancy the idea, it was better than having to answer embarrassing questions or, worse, endure pitying looks.

He sighed and shook off the thought. A facial wound hardly mattered--he had more important things to think about. Not that Sam's party wasn't important, but Remus had to decide how exactly he was going to go about seeing Teddy again.

Yes, they'd had dinner together after, but the conversation had been stilted at best, neither of them really meeting the other's eyes. They hadn't hugged when Teddy left, as they usually did. Remus missed that. He hoped fervently that his old intimacy with his son would be restored to how it once had been--not this new, inappropriate intimacy that they had fallen into.

He would have to be the one who contacted Teddy, not the other way around. He needed to regain his place as father, authority figure, holiday master of ceremonies--not the weak, pathetic man Teddy had last seen. Christmas and Boxing Day should be as normal as possible--yes, they'd resume the lessons in January, probably, but for now, Remus needed to make some sort of temporary patch.

He moved to his desk, aware of every creaking joint and aching muscle. He settled in his chair, groaning only a little, and pulled out a quill and parchment.

 _Dear Teddy,_ he wrote, then he twisted his mouth into a frown and took out another sheet of parchment, starting again.

 _Dear Ted,_

I suppose by now you've had an invitation from Harry to his Boxing Day party. Sam and I will be attending together, and you're welcome to travel with us. I'm sure Harry wouldn't mind if you brought a friend along; you know there are always masses of people at those parties.

As for Christmas, Sam will be here at the house then, as well. I hope we can introduce him to the traditional Lupin Family Christmas together. Again, you're welcome to bring a friend if you like--just be sure to warn him that we Lupins get up very early on Christmas morning!

Will we see you before Christmas? Let me know.

Love,

Dad

He read through it, then added a postscript.

 _P.S. I'll be with Sam at one of his charity Christmas parties this Friday, but no other definite plans until the 24th. See you on Christmas Eve for sure._

That would do. He'd post it in the morning on his way to work; he never felt right about running errands on the day after the full moon, even if it had been a relatively easy transformation, and today he ached too much even to think about it. Perhaps a hot bath would help.

He started the water running and made himself another cup of tea, plain this time, then took it and a book into the bath, charming the book to levitate so that he wouldn't accidentally drop it into the water. If his fingers were damp turning the pages, no real harm done, but saturating it was a bad plan. The hot water unknotted his muscles as he soaked, and he nearly dozed off, but caught himself as his chin touched the water.

For the rest of the afternoon he puttered around the house, tidying away the books and papers that seemed always to spawn on every flat surface, and dusting while he was at it. He'd want to do another quick clean before Christmas Eve, when they'd decorate, but hopefully it wouldn't take too long then.

A thump in the Floo, and then Sam's voice calling his name, brought Remus hurrying into the living room just before six. To his disappointment it was only Sam's head looking out at him from the flames.

"Remus, I'm sorry, I hoped to come over this evening but I'm not going to be able to." Sam scowled. "Emergency board meeting. Why it has to be tonight..." He shook his head. "Anyhow. Can I make it up to you tomorrow?"

"Of course." There was really no other response Remus could make. "I hope that your meeting goes all right. See you tomorrow night."

"Thanks." Sam cocked his head. "Bollocks. Have to rush. Love you!"

He disappeared. Remus quelled the cold loneliness by concentrating on Sam's last words. He'd be fine; he'd survived post-transformation days for decades before he and Sam even met. Just because he was older now didn't mean he couldn't manage. If there was no Sam bringing in takeaway, Remus could find something in the refrigerator or open a tin of soup, and it would doubtless be a good plan to go to bed early anyhow.

Eating his soup and leftover pasta, Remus missed Sam's company nonetheless. He thought about Teddy, probably likewise eating alone, and wondered if Teddy were following Remus's suggestion and talking to his friends about his sexuality. Andrew had seemed like a pleasant young man, but if he were truly that shy of coming out, he might not be the best person for Teddy--although Teddy had certainly seemed keen on him, judging from the degree of his unhappiness at their quarrel.

But of course, it was natural to be head-over-heels when you were young and you liked someone that much for the first time. And though Teddy had dated Victoire for quite a while, had even had intercourse with her, he was entering new territory now, starting all over again. So of course he'd be crazy for Andrew. And, Remus supposed, Teddy would probably have his heart broken when he realised that Andrew wasn't able to be open about his sexuality. It made sense--Quidditch players weren't exactly known for their open-mindedness when it came to those sorts of things.

Remus shook his head, popping the last of his pasta in his mouth. He shouldn't be judging like that. He didn't know Andrew beyond a few niceties and what Teddy had told him--perhaps the boy would turn out to be just fine. It took time, he knew, to come out--he and Sam were only now going public about their relationship, and they'd been seeing each other for a year and both had had decades of relationships with other men before that.

He would, he decided, not say a word unless Teddy brought the subject up, and even then, he'd have to do his best to be fair and calm. He remembered Sam chastising him to leave Teddy's date alone, even if he was a little punk, and he scowled. If Andrew had--but no, no, he couldn't continue this cycle of blame and fault. It was no one's fault but his own that he'd had sex with his son.

He sighed and cleared his dishes from the table, rinsing them in the sink. He should make it an early night. He was bodily quite tired, but his mind felt otherwise--it wanted to keep moving, and he'd never quite managed to figure out how to turn it off when it wanted to do that. He knew that if he went up to bed, he'd only lie awake for hours.

But there was nothing else to do, he thought, cursing Sam's blasted charities.

When he had reached the top of the stairs after a somewhat painful climb, he paused, then went to the door of the spare bedroom. He hadn't been in there since the other night, since--

The door wasn't latched, and it swung open at a touch.

The bedclothes were still rumpled, and a stray sock lay on the floor--he wasn't sure if it was his or Teddy's. Remus stood in the doorway and heaved a sigh. God, but that bed looked inviting. He shouldn't, though. His own bed wasn't far, and to sleep where he'd violated his son would surely contribute to his downfall.

Remus stepped into the room and, after a moment's thought, drew his wand and flicked it at the bed. The bedclothes rearranged themselves into a semblance of order--not as neat as if he'd done it by hand, but then, he thought he probably shouldn't go any nearer. He stooped down and picked up the sock. _Teddy's._ Its mate must be somewhere, perhaps under the bed. Reluctantly Remus put one hand on the mattress, bracing himself, and rather painfully knelt to look and see if he could find the other sock. There it was. He pulled it out of the dusty corner--he'd better remember to clean under there next week--and began to rise again, then stopped and sat heavily on the smoothed-out quilt.

Just for a moment, he told himself, but his mind turned back to Sunday and to what he'd done. Never mind that Teddy had wanted it, had instigated the events. Remus was supposed to be the adult, the responsible one. Blaming his actions on his condition was just a rationalisation. He'd been a werewolf his entire adult life; he knew what could happen, and he should have drawn the line at the very beginning of the evening, when Teddy asked to kiss him.

He sniffed. There was still a faint lingering scent of sweat and sex, probably undetectable by anyone without his heightened sense of smell, but enough to make his cock twitch in response, despite his physical fatigue.

With an effort he stood, leaving the pair of socks on the bed. He would wash them, and the bedclothes, another day. For now he only knew he had to leave the room. He'd go to his own bed and have a slow and soothing wank, try to relax enough that he could stop thinking of Teddy and get to sleep.

The large new plug would be too much, tonight. Remus chose an older one, made of bright green soft rubber, and laid it to hand on his nightstand along with his favourite lubricant. He undressed slowly, wincing as his movements pulled at some of last night's injuries, though the pain was no more than his due. Just as well that he didn't _like_ pain, he supposed.

His cock was soft when he lay down, and he toyed with it absently for a moment before beginning seriously to stroke himself toward arousal. He resolutely refused to think about Teddy--though the resolution itself brought images of his son crowding into his brain--and instead thought about how nice it would be if Sam were there, spooned up behind him and wanting to make love. Sam would fondle Remus's bollocks, urging him to raise one knee so that Sam could reach behind them to caress the sensitive skin, putting light pressure over his hole. Then maybe he'd slide downward, tell Remus to roll onto his knees so that Sam could rim him. _Ah._

At this point in his fantasy Remus reached for his plug and lube, slicking the toy up thoroughly and pressing the tip of it against his arsehole, which opened hungrily at the touch. Remus slid it home, centimetre by centimetre, and sighed with pleasure when it was entirely inside, setting a spell so that it would thrust in a slow rhythm. Not nearly as good as Sam's tongue or fingers or cock, but it left both of Remus's hands free to pleasure himself in other ways.

He toyed with his bollocks, which were growing tight and heavy, the skin stretching, growing taut. He ran a fingernail down the seam, then back up again, stroking his cock with his other hand.

Yes, yes, Sam rimming him, laving his tongue over Remus's arsehole, then spearing it in, fucking him with it--Remus groaned aloud, closing his eyes and arching a little off the bed. It would be better, of course, if Sam were really there, but his fantasy was good--and accurate; Sam had rimmed him enough times that Remus had memorised the sensations the act caused.

His breath and his heartbeat quickened; he knew orgasm wasn't far off. He sped the movement of his hand on his cock, then slowed it again, varying the rhythm to keep himself from coming too quickly.

In Remus's mind, the roles reversed--now he was the one rimming Sam, pressing suckling kisses to his arsehole as Sam writhed under him, calling Remus's name.

Remus opened and closed his mouth as he wanked himself, craving the taste, the heat, of Sam. He cried out, little wordless moans, as he smeared his precome down his shaft, his orgasm impending. He didn't bother to vary his speed now; he was too close, and the fantasy was too real.

For a moment, just before Remus came, the hair of Sam in his fantasy turned from dark streaked with silver to brightest turquoise, and Sam's face thinned out, his eyes flashing merrily. Fuck--no--he didn't want to, _couldn't_ come with Teddy's face in his mind's eye.

Apparently his body thought otherwise, for, though he tried his damnedest to stave off his orgasm and to shoo Teddy from his thoughts, his cock twitched and jerked in his grasp and he came, spilling onto his belly, the plug still working in and out of his hole.

He collapsed, breathing hard, and scrambled for his wand to stop the spell on the plug.

"No more," he gasped, sliding it from his well-fucked hole.

He set the plug and his wand on the bedside table, then lay there for a long moment, trying to forget what he'd just seen in his head. It was a sexual fantasy, nothing more, he told himself--and he was sure that he wasn't wrong in saying that. He didn't want to share his life with Teddy the way he increasingly wanted to do with Sam. It was just a common reaction to aging, to settling down, this yearning for a young partner, and if Teddy hadn't persuaded him into this unusual situation, probably Remus would be having similar fantasies about the handsome young wizard who worked at the stationery shop next door to Flourish & Blotts.

Perhaps... perhaps he was trying to deal with this the wrong way? If it weren't Teddy in question, he might feel a little bit of guilt, but mostly he would just let it happen. There was no harm done in imagining anyone he liked when he wanked, as long as he didn't act on those fantasies in a way that would hurt Sam or himself. Perhaps if he allowed himself--even forced himself--to think about Teddy that way every time, he would grow tired of it?

Remus sighed. Perhaps. Certainly what he'd been doing hadn't been working very well. If his son continued to turn up in his head during wanking sessions, he feared that sometime it might happen when he was with Sam--and _that_ would be terrible.

He rolled over, pulling the covers around him, too tired to bother cleaning up tonight. He'd do it in the morning.

On Thursday Sam came by in the evening as promised. They made gentle love and Sam stayed the night, reminding Remus over breakfast to meet him at Sam's flat after work, so they could go to the charity party together.

"It's not _too_ formal, this one," Sam said. "Just wear the sort of robes you'd wear to a wedding, I'd say."

Remus nodded. "I'll come home and change quickly and then go to your flat. I should be there before six; that's early enough, right?"

"That'll be fine." Sam squeezed Remus's hand. "I'm glad you're going to come with me. It'll be good to have you there." He gave Remus a happy smile. "It's been years since there's been someone I wanted to be public with."

"Mm hm. Oh--I know I've mentioned Harry's party to you, the one on Boxing Day. The formal invitation arrived yesterday, not that I expected it wouldn't, and as always Harry said 'and guest,' so I hope you'll come?"

"It's when exactly?" asked Sam.

"Afternoon through to evening," Remus said. "Very informal, come-and-go-ish."

"All right. I ought to go see my mother in the morning, so that works out." Sam's expression was a little distant. Remus knew Sam had never got on too well with his mother--his father was dead--but she was now senile and in a home for elderly witches and wizards. Sam did his duty in visiting regularly, though Remus wasn't sure if the old lady even knew who Sam was any more.

"I could--I could go with you, if that wouldn't be too strange for you," he offered, though he knew full well that there was a high likelihood of it being _quite_ strange, and Sam squeezed his hand again.

"You don't have to," he said, "I don't want you to be uncomfortable, and besides, I won't be spending too much time there anyway. She doesn't even recognise me all the time, anymore, and when she does, she--" Sam shook his head. "Never mind."

Remus furrowed his brow. "Never mind what?" From Sam's tone, this didn't sound like a _Never mind_ sort of issue.

Sam sighed. "It really doesn't matter, Remus. She's old and senile, and I doubt she knows what she's saying."

"Wait, no. You can't just--what does she say?"

Sam looked down at his shoes for a moment, then back up at Remus. "When she does recognise me, these days," he said, "she likes to insult me, tell me how I wasted my life, and how I'm a disappointment for being--how I am. How _we_ are. And for never giving her any grandchildren. She likes to tell me how my father would have been disappointed, too."

He set his jaw and swallowed hard, his eyes wide and bright.

"Oh--I didn't know," Remus said softly. "I'm--I'm sorry. I suppose, in light of that, that it wouldn't be a good idea at all for me to go with you, then."

"Probably not," said Sam in clipped tones. "You see why it's usually a short visit."

"Yes," replied Remus, "I see." He didn't know what else to say.

"Teddy's a lucky boy," said Sam, "to have a parent who understands."

Remus gave a self-conscious laugh. "Yes, well, I could hardly help but do so."

"I think you'd have understood anyway." Sam pushed back his chair and rose, bending down to drop a kiss on Remus's head. "You're a good man, Remus Lupin. But I know you need to get to work, so I'll head out. See you tonight."

When Sam had gone, Remus took a gulp of nearly-cold tea, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat that had formed at Sam's words. He tried, yes, but he wasn't sure he agreed with Sam's assessment--and he didn't think Sam would, either, if he knew a few things he didn't. Well. Everyone had secrets from their partner, it was only human.

The day at the bookstore seemed longer than usual, even though Remus had managed to make sure he didn't have to stay until they closed at eight, but left at five. Holiday hours were always a pain. He'd be working Saturday, between that and having had Wednesday off, which meant that if he stayed with Sam that night he couldn't have a nice lie-in. Well, he couldn't in any case, it was just more enjoyable to do so in company. But it couldn't be helped.

At three minutes after five, he was heading for home. His best robes were a dark navy wool, in a classic cut that Madam Malkin had assured him years ago would look suitable for any occasion. She'd urged him to choose black, but Remus found it too funereal; besides, Severus Snape had always worn black, and he had no intention of emulating that man in any way. One shouldn't speak ill of the dead, but Snape's death had been the only decent thing he'd ever done, in Remus's opinion. Perhaps that was too harsh. Snape _had_ been awarded the Order of Merlin posthumously, at Harry's insistence. Flicking his fingers to brush away the pointless thoughts, Remus pulled the robes from his wardrobe and began to change.

"You look dashing," said Sam when Remus arrived.

"I wasn't sure about the tie," Remus confessed. It was a rather bright red silk. "Teddy gave it to me several years ago."

"Festive and suitable to the season," Sam said firmly. "Only, here." He smoothed Remus's hair and stepped back to look at the results. "That's better."

"It'll get mussed again when we Floo."

"Then I'll fix it again." Sam smiled. "Not exactly difficult."

"All right." Remus smiled back, feeling a little more nervous than he wanted to show. "You look splendid too, you know."

Sam was wearing black, a much more fashionable style than Remus's, and a tie in subdued green and gold. "Thanks. Shall we?"

Remus nodded. They Flooed separately, Sam going first. When Remus arrived in the entrance hall of the manor where the party was being held, he didn't see Sam in the small crowd of arriving witches and wizards, and for a moment, unreasonable panic shot through him. He was certain he'd ended up in the wrong place.

And then there was a strong hand on his shoulder and a voice in his ear.

"Do you come here often?"

Remus shook his head, letting out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. He turned around, and Sam was there, looking quite pleased with himself.

"Nervous?" he asked, and Remus nodded.

"Is it that apparent?"

Sam cocked his head. "Only slightly. Perhaps if you could relax your shoulders and unclench your fists? Ah, that's better," he said, as Remus did as suggested, taking a deep breath.

"You're used to these things," Remus pointed out, "whereas I'm used to staying home on blustery nights with my slippers and a crossword puzzle and a cup of tea or six."

"Relax," said Sam, smiling. "You're not the one who's going to be introducing your _boyfriend_ to people who, up until tonight, all probably thought you were straight and wanted to introduce you to their _lovely_ nieces."

Remus laughed and elbowed him. "No, I'm just the boyfriend who has to be introduced," he retorted. " _Much_ less intimidating."

"When they meet you," said Sam, taking Remus's hand and brushing an almost-kiss over his knuckles, "they're all sure to love you just as much as I do."

"I doubt it," Remus said under his breath, but Sam only chuckled.

"Shall I get you a drink first?"

"No, thanks," said Remus, looking around and noticing that fewer than half the people there were holding drinks. Besides, he didn't want to have to juggle a glass and shake hands, too; that wouldn't leave him free to hold Sam's hand. "Not quite yet."

"Right." Sam nodded toward a very tall wizard a few yards away. "Come and meet Alistair Aldsworth."

Alistair was only the first of nearly three dozen wizards and witches to whom Sam introduced Remus over the course of the long evening. After a couple of hours, when Remus had accepted a glass of wine and was eating assorted finger sandwiches and other nibbles, he murmured to Sam, "I'm never going to keep them all straight, you know. It's been years since I taught and had to memorise a whole roomful of names in one go, and I was always rubbish at it even then."

Sam choked on his stuffed mushroom. "Sorry." He cleared his throat. "Don't worry about it. Anyone we talk to again, I'll work their name into the conversation. You'll be fine."

"That one witch, the one in the lavender robes?"

"Sage Dalrymple."

"Yes, that's the one. I quite liked her."

"She's a lovely person, and a generous donor." Sam smiled at someone beyond Remus and lifted his glass. "One of those with a niece, but as the reason she's so generous is that she has no children of her own and her niece has had an incurable magical malady for about twenty years now, she's never even tried to matchmake for me."

"Oh dear," said Remus. "I didn't realise."

"Most donors--the big ones anyway--have some personal reason to be interested," Sam said.

Remus nodded, looking around the room, vaguely wondering which of the donors had such personal reasons, and what those reasons might be, but he decided it was probably best not to speculate, seeing as he had his own so-called _malady_ to deal with, and he'd have hated if any of them were wondering about him.

Not that they weren't, he supposed--but in a different way. He had caught more than one socialite looking his way as she whispered to her escort--gossiping about Sam, more than likely, who seemed oblivious to the occasional stares.

Remus pulled Sam aside for a moment so that they faced each other, still holding hands.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked immediately.

"How do you know something's wrong?"

"Besides the death grip you've got on my hand?" Sam flexed his hand in Remus's grip, and Remus coloured and relaxed.

"Right, sorry. Just--I feel like people are staring at us. Not that I'm not used to being marginalised, Sam, but I don't know if I should actually be here with you."

Sam frowned and leaned forward.

"Remus," he said, his voice low, "listen, please, to what I've got to say."

Remus nodded and Sam continued.

"Fuck. Everyone. Else."

Remus raised his eyebrows.

"All right," Sam conceded, "Not everyone. But anyone who's making you feel less than welcome? Bugger them. None of the people I've introduced to you so far have done so, have they?" Remus shook his head.

"I've introduced you to everyone who matters," said Sam, "so bugger everyone else, all right?"

"I don't want to bugger everyone else," said Remus, so quietly that he wasn't sure if Sam would hear him. "Just you."

Sam evidently did hear, because his ears turned pink. "Same here. We should stay a little longer, though, maybe another half-hour, hour. Then we'll go home."

"I have to work in the morning," Remus reminded him.

"A half-hour. No more," promised Sam. "There are only a few more people I should say hello to."

As good as his word, Sam was smiling and saying good-byes thirty minutes later, with Remus nodding pleasantly behind him. At last they were back by the Floo, and Sam grinned at Remus as he took up a handful of Floo powder from the bowl. "See you in a moment. Your place, since you have to work."

Remus was about to toss his own in when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Mr Lupin?"

It was Sage Dalrymple, the elderly witch wearing lavender.

"Yes, Madam Dalrymple?"

"I wanted to say what a pleasure it was to meet you," she said. "I haven't seen Sam Boardman so happy in years." She gave Remus a twinkling smile. "Now have a happy Christmas."

"Thank you," Remus answered automatically. "You do the same."

He went through the Floo to his house and came out sputtering slightly, ash in his mouth.

"You all right?" said Sam in concern. "Did you miss the grate, or something?"

"No, Madam Dalrymple spoke to me for a moment before I could go, that's all." Remus found himself grinning. "She said you looked very happy."

Sam enveloped Remus in an embrace. "I am, you know," he murmured, kissing the warm skin of Remus's neck. "This is the happiest I've been in years."

Remus nodded and held tightly to Sam. "That's what Madam Dalrymple said. That she hasn't seen you this happy in years. She caught me off-guard, I'll admit, but it was good to hear."

Sam pulled away a bit so he could look Remus in the eye. "You do know how happy you make me, don't you?"

"I don't know, not exactly," Remus replied, "but I do know that it can't be half as happy as you make me." Sam rolled his eyes at Remus, but he was smiling, and they moved together in a comforting embrace, standing like that for several minutes, just holding each other there in front of the fireplace.

Remus stifled a yawn. "I suppose I should get to bed," he said then, his voice filled with regret. He'd have loved to stay up talking with Sam, but the social atmosphere had drained him of much of his energy, and even before they'd gone to the party, he hadn't been feeling his best--the effects from the moon sometimes lasted for several days, and his joints and his back still ached somewhat.

Sam nuzzled along his neck. "Bed, eh?"

"Oh--" Remus protested, already planning to stall Sam's advances, "I really mustn't--I've got to be rested for work tomorrow. A Saturday just before Christmas--we're going to be busy."

"You don't have to do a thing," purred Sam. "Just lie there and let me do all the work."

That sounded promising.

"Perhaps--if we go up now--"

"Now's a good time for me. I haven't got anything else to do right now except take care of you. Can I make it up to you for not being there after the moon? Let me make you feel better, Remus."

"How can I say no?" Remus laughed. "You're too good to me."

"Mm, not good enough." Sam kissed his neck again, and Remus shivered pleasurably. "Come on."

Sam undressed them both rapidly, hanging up their dress robes so they wouldn't wrinkle as Remus lay down on the bed, propping himself on one elbow to watch Sam and admire his arse. Sam knew what Remus was doing, and waggled it as he found the lube and brought it over.

"I'd love to give you another massage, but I think it would take too long." Sam stretched out beside Remus instead and kissed him, running one hand along Remus's body from shoulder to thigh. "Another night."

Remus nodded. "I really enjoyed that, I have to say." He inhaled sharply as Sam tweaked one nipple. "Ah!"

"Sensitive tonight," Sam observed. He scooted down the bed so that he could lick the spot apologetically. His mouth was warm and wet and comforting, and Remus rolled onto his back as Sam continued to move downward, nuzzling every inch. Remus's cock rose up, straining toward Sam, who didn't tease but took the head into his mouth as soon as he reached it, making Remus groan.

He didn't suck Remus for very long, however, but went on to his bollocks, then asked Remus to lift his thighs.

It would have been more comfortable to roll over than to fold up so awkwardly, but this way Remus could look down at Sam's silvering hair and touch it as Sam's tongue explored into his arse. It was just as he'd fantasised about earlier in the week, with Sam making little grunts and whuffs of enjoyment as he licked and sucked and wriggled his tongue further.

"Sam, Sam," Remus murmured, his breath coming quickly. "God, that's marvellous."

Sam chuckled against Remus's hole, the vibrations sending a delicious buzz up Remus's spine. "Just wait a moment."

Remus was quite happy to wait if this was what he got for doing so. Sam rimmed him for another couple of minutes, then pulled his face away and cast a lubrication and stretching spell--but not on Remus. Instead Sam knelt up over Remus's hips and guided Remus's cock into his own body, wincing almost unnoticeably--spells were just never quite as good, but Remus knew that Sam would adjust quickly. "Oh, that's lovely," Sam breathed, and leaned forward, bracing his hands and beginning to ride Remus.

Remus couldn't help but agree--Sam had said he'd take care of Remus, and he was doing a damned good job of it. He arched up off the bed, thrusting into Sam, but Sam cupped Remus's cheek in his hand.

"Just keep still--just let me make you come. No work for you tonight."

Remus couldn't argue with an offer like that. He relaxed against the pillows, watching Sam as he rode Remus's cock. Sam's shaggy hair kept falling in his eyes, and Sam shoved it back with little grunts of annoyance. Remus smiled at the sight.

"Touch yourself, Sam," Remus whispered, "I want to watch you."

"Ah, fuck, yes," Sam hissed, and he did, grasping his cock and giving it several swift tugs before falling into a rhythm that matched his rising and falling on Remus's stiff prick.

"I want to make you come, Remus," Sam declared, still stroking himself. Remus gasped a _yes_ and watched as a drop of precome welled up on the head of Sam's cock and hesitated, then fell onto Remus's stomach, hot and slick, and Remus dipped his finger into it, then brought the finger to his mouth.

"Love to taste you," he declared, and Sam swore and fucked Remus a little faster, fisting his own cock at the same rate.

"Love to watch you do it. God." Sam shuddered, almost coming, Remus could tell.

"Love the way you feel around me, so tight, Sam, so good..." Remus's voice trailed off as he looked up at Sam, their gazes locking, and then Sam gyrated his hips and clenched around Remus and Remus came, the heat rushing through him as he clutched at Sam's thighs, pulling him desperately closer, and Sam came too in spurts that fell across Remus's chest, and then Sam was leaning forward, his skin warm and sweaty and sticky with semen as they clung together with Remus's cock softening and beginning to slip from Sam's arse.

"You're the only one I want, Remus," said Sam in Remus's ear. "I was proud that you were with me tonight."

Remus tightened his arms around Sam. "I was glad I was there, even if it felt awkward sometimes. I love you, Sam."

It still felt new and strange, saying the words straight out that way. He hadn't said it to very many people, after all; Sirius and Tonks were really the only other two. _And Teddy._ He pushed that thought out of his mind. He'd said it to his parents, he could say it to his son.

"I love you too." Sam sounded relaxed and happy. "I'm really looking forward to spending Christmas with you and Ted. It's been a long time since I--well, since I really enjoyed Christmas."

"Ted might be bringing someone too," said Remus cautiously.

"Andrew?"

"Maybe. I gather they had some sort of argument, so I'm not sure what the situation is now. I'll try to find out by the twenty-third; if Ted does bring Andrew, or another friend for that matter, I'll want to have some gift, and I'll certainly want to make sure there's enough food. Boys that age, after all."

"Yeah." Sam moved off Remus. "I remember. My mother used to grumble that I cost twice as much to feed as my dad and her together. I started not going home much around then. The Hobgoblins were just making it big, so I could afford a flat and to eat out all the time if I wanted. Unlike you I wasn't very domesticated."

Remus laughed. "I wasn't very domesticated at that age either. It took a while to develop."

"Well, I'm glad it developed in one of us, at least," replied Sam, looking over at Remus. "This way, I figure, you can cook for me and clean up after me when I'm old and my years of drug use and alcoholism have finally taken their toll on my body."

Remus turned onto his side and poked Sam in his belly, rolling his eyes. "Don't say that."

Sam gave a shrug. "Why not?" But a smile played around his lips, and there were merry creases as the corners of his eyes.

"Oh, Remus," he continued, "don't make that face. That's a Worried Remus face, and I don't like you making that face about me. Make it about Teddy or someone else. Not about me. I'm going to be around--and lucid, mind you, and in control of all of my bodily functions--for a damned good long while yet. So you don't get to worry about me, all right?"

Remus let out the softest of sighs. "I don't mean to worry, Sam, but when you bring up things like--"

"I know. Here." Sam took Remus in his arms, and they entwined their limbs. Remus could feel Sam's heart beating against his own chest, sure and strong and stabilising. Remus reasoned with himself. Sam was in just as good of health as Remus was--probably better, actually. He wasn't going anywhere.

"I don't worry about you often," Remus said against Sam's neck. "I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing. I worry about Teddy constantly, of course, but maybe that's because I still see him as a little boy sometimes. Whereas you're--"

" _Definitely_ not a little boy," Sam replied, pressing his softened cock to Remus's thigh, and Remus chuckled, ignoring the voice in the back of his head that was trying to remind him that there were recent times that he hadn't thought of Teddy as a little boy at all.

"No," said Remus, "Definitely not."

They lay there in each other's arms, drifting dangerously near to sleep, naked and sated, with spunk drying on their bellies, until Remus managed to make an effort to rouse himself.

"Come on," he said, his voice thick. "Let's go to bed."

"We're _in_ bed already," Sam protested, not responding to Remus's tugging on his hand.

"You're funny," replied Remus, his eyelids drooping. "Come on."

Sam roused himself and they cleaned their skin and put on pyjamas--well, Remus managed pyjama bottoms and Sam found a clean pair of pants in Remus's top drawer. Remus didn't remember granting Sam drawer privileges, but he found he rather liked the way that Sam rummaged so easily in there, as if he belonged there.

And, Remus reflected as they climbed back into bed, really, Sam did.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teddy, Andrew, and Simon go to Charon, a gay wizarding club.

On Saturday Teddy was restocking packets of porcupine quills when the bell on the shop door jingled.

"Just a moment," he called over his shoulder. He lined up the last several packets, nudged a jar of dried lionfish spine back from the edge of the shelf, and hurried back to the counter.

"Hi, Ted." Andrew looked cold and nervous, his bare hands red and his hair wind-blown.

"Hi." Teddy swallowed. Madam Poyt was in the back room, mixing potions. The only other customer in the shop was browsing amongst the herbs. "What can I get for you?"

"I, um. I know that you can't talk right now, not at work, but would you meet me after?"

"We don't close until six tonight," Teddy told him. It was only midafternoon.

"That's fine," Andrew said. He looked around. "I could use some Draught of Peace, since I'm here."

"What size bottle?" Teddy asked, going over to the proper shelf.

Andrew came and stood behind him. "The medium one. I haven't been sleeping well."

"I'm sorry." Teddy could smell the scent of Andrew's soap, a woodsy fragrance. He reached down the Draught of Peace. "That'll be eleven Sickles." He put the bottle into a carrier bag and rang up the sale, taking a Galleon from Andrew and giving him six Sickles in change, trying to ignore the thrill that went through him when their hands touched.

"Shall I come back at six?" asked Andrew as he picked up the bag.

"Sure. I'm supposed to meet someone, but not until ten." He'd owled Simon and they were planning to go to Charon. It occurred to Teddy that Andrew might have been hoping that Teddy would spend the evening, maybe the night. Well, after a fortnight of silence, he had no right to make any assumptions. Though maybe Teddy was making an assumption about what Andrew expected, too.

"Oh," said Andrew softly. "I see."

Teddy couldn't help but respond to the stricken look on Andrew's face by saying, "Just a friend from school. I'll see you at six."

Andrew seemed to brighten a little at the news that it was just a friend whom Teddy was meeting, but he quickly rearranged his features into an expression of nonchalance.

"Right, well, see you then," he said, heading out the door.

The afternoon dragged by. Teddy couldn't help but watch the clock, and the lack of customers didn't help his nerves. Finally, the minute hand edged its way towards six o'clock, and at five minutes till, the bell on the door jangled and Andrew walked into the shop for the second time that day.

"Hi," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"I'm not quite done," Teddy replied. Madame Poyt had made it clear to Teddy on the day that he began working at Slug and Jiggers that his shift ended when it ended, not ten minutes before, not five, not two. He knew full well he couldn't leave until after six, and the minutes ticked by in silence. Teddy didn't have anything to say until after he heard what Andrew had to say, and he thought that Andrew probably wanted to speak somewhere more private, so Teddy passed the time dusting the counter and the shelves behind it, Andrew browsing among the bins in the front of the store.

At one minute past six, Teddy called a good-bye to Madame Poyt, who was still in the back of the shop, and grabbed his coat and hat and wound his scarf around his neck.

"All right," he said to Andrew. "Where? The Leaky?"

"I rather thought--all right, we can go there." Andrew screwed up his face, clearly displeased with Teddy's choice of venue.

But when the two got to the Leaky, it was packed. Witches and wizards stood shoulder to shoulder, and there wasn't a single empty seat. Teddy sighed and turned around, heading back out into the street.

"My flat," he said. "Meet you there." And he Apparated away without waiting for a response from Andrew.

If he'd half-thought Andrew might not show up, he was wrong. Only seconds after Teddy arrived, there was a loud _crack_ and Andrew stood next to the sofa.

"Ted--"

"Have a seat," Teddy cut him off. "I'll get us something to drink."

He came back into the living room with two beers. Andrew was sitting very upright, feet together, hands on his knees, although he'd taken off his heavy coat and put it over the back of the sofa. He looked as if he were waiting to see the Headmistress at Hogwarts, and he didn't relax even when Teddy handed him a beer.

"Okay, then." Teddy plopped down, deliberately casual, at the other end of the sofa and took a long swig. "You wanted to talk."

Andrew wore an odd expression. "Are you going to listen?"

Teddy looked at him more carefully and realised that Andrew was on the verge of breaking down. "I will," he said in a gentler tone.

"Right." Andrew took a deep breath. "I've been thinking a lot about what you said two weeks ago." He looked down at his hands and spoke almost as if he'd memorised what he was saying. "First that you wanted to be able to like me without having to hide it. And then that you didn't care that I'd never really had anything close to a relationship with another bloke before. I'm not sure which one you really meant, or maybe it was both. But what I figured out was that I like you too much to let it go. There's no way I'm ever going to fancy a girl; it just won't happen. And you were right. Even if _I_ could hide for my whole life, I can't make someone else hide too."

He paused and drank from his beer. Teddy watched his throat move as he swallowed, saw how the knuckles of his other hand were white, clenching at his knee.

"I wrote to my parents. I didn't have the guts to tell them in person, but I wrote and told them that I was queer, I had been as long as I could remember, I would never be anything else, and I hoped they could understand that."

Teddy started to say something, but Andrew held up his hand. "Let me finish. My mother wrote back to say that this was a terrible shock and they'd have to have time to think about it, and would I mind not coming home for Christmas, under the circumstances. She'd find an excuse for my sisters." He was still staring downward. "The letter arrived just this morning."

A thousand replies came crowding into Teddy's mouth all at once; he choked on them, then chose the simplest.

" _What_?"

Andrew nodded. "I know. It's what I thought it would be, pretty much, though I didn't exactly expect to be kicked out of my own family's Christmas. Guess I'm not the only one in my family with the ability to shock." He twirled a finger in the air halfheartedly, as if sarcastically cheering for his mother.

Teddy bit his lip to prevent himself from saying anything else right away and clenched his free hand in a fist to keep himself from reaching out to Andrew just yet. He took a long swallow of beer, then set the can on his knee, studying the darker rings it made on the tan fabric of his trousers.

"I'm so sorry," he finally said, looking up at Andrew. "I can't imagine. This must have been a really shit few days for you."

"Just the one day, actually," Andrew replied. "The others were just halfway shit. At least there was the possibility, the days before today, of my parents having some sort of--what's the word--epiphany, I guess, that poofs aren't all bad. Know what I mean? But they didn't. So..." Andrew trailed off, running his hand through his hair.

"At least you told them," Teddy said, softening a bit. Andrew was really _hurting_ , he realised, more than Teddy had known at first.

"Yeah, fat fucking lot of good it did me."

"Listen--" Teddy moved closer to Andrew on the sofa, then placed a tentative hand on his shoulder. He took a breath, debating a thought that had occurred to him the first time Andrew had mentioned Christmas. _Come to my dad's_ , the Hufflepuff part of him wanted to say, but Teddy overrode his instinct and decided to wait.

"Listen," he repeated. "You've got to at least feel good that you had the bollocks to tell them. Nothing to be done about it now--and their reaction's _their_ problem." He said this last with more vitriol than he'd intended, suddenly hating Andrew's family, though he'd never met them and now probably never would.

"Well, they've made it _my_ problem," retorted Andrew, and Teddy had to concede that that was at least a little bit true.

"Okay, they have. But it could still work out, once they get used to it." Teddy bit his lip. "Maybe it won't, I know. I suppose you can blame me for this."

Andrew knuckled his eyes. "Believe me, I'd like to. I feel like the world's worst son."

"You're _not_." When Andrew didn't respond at all, Teddy repeated, "You're not. Telling your parents the truth doesn't make you a bad son at all. I mean, it's not like you're out there molesting goats or something."

That brought a rather watery chuckle. "I'm not sure they don't think that I do that, too. But yeah."

Encouraged, Teddy went on, "I think you were really brave to tell them, Andrew." He moved his hand around to Andrew's other shoulder and shifted closer, giving him a one-armed hug, feeling how tense Andrew was. "Braver than I was, since I knew there was a pretty good chance my dad would accept it, given his own preference."

Andrew let out a long sigh. "I guess I had to do it... but I really hoped I was wrong about how they'd react. I wish I hadn't been. Maybe I should have waited a few more weeks, just till after the holidays. The next couple of weeks are going to be pretty miserable. We don't even have any training scheduled until after the New Year, so no distractions."

"What were you going to be doing, before your mum sent you that letter?" Teddy asked.

"Oh, shopping for the last presents I wanted to give my family, probably. I was going to go to them on Thursday, stay for a week or so." Andrew sighed again. "Nothing really exciting, but all the traditional sorts of family things. Decorating the tree. Carol-singing. All that. Now..." He shrugged.

Teddy decided that he might as well go ahead. "I have to work all next week, but Madam Poyt closes the apothecary shop at noon on Christmas Eve, and I'll go to my dad's then. If you'd like to come too, I'd really like to have you there. I don't expect we have exactly the same traditions as your family, but it'll still be a family Christmas, if you want to be part of it."

"Are you sure?" Andrew tilted his head, glancing sideways at Teddy. "Your dad won't mind having someone else around?"

"Positive. Sam will be there; only fair for me to have a friend too, right?" Teddy gave Andrew's shoulders another squeeze. "I'll just tell him that you weren't able to go home this year. He won't make any fuss about it." He paused, then added, "I really missed you. I wanted to owl you to make up, but I hadn't quite gotten over all my stubbornness yet. I'm sorry."

"I--wow. Thanks." Andrew paused, swiping at his eyes again, and Teddy pretended not to notice. "I'm sorry, too," Andrew said then, "sorry it took me so long to figure out what I had to do."

Teddy shrugged. "It's all right," he said, though he'd felt nothing even close to all right whenever he'd thought about Andrew over the last fortnight.

"If you like," said Andrew slowly, twisting his hands together, "and, I mean, _only_ if you like, all right? I was thinking maybe we could try this whole thing again. Start over, sort of. Maybe we began it wrong--I've never begun anything before that didn't end the same night, you know? I wasn't exactly expecting anything good to come of it."

Teddy considered this. He'd enjoyed the time they'd spent together, and they'd been well on their way to becoming good friends--with _excellent_ benefits--but he'd also enjoyed his encounter with Simon, and he had those plans to go to Charon later. He frowned, then shrugged. It wasn't as though they were getting sodding _engaged_ or anything. They were just going to try again. Start slow. Right, then, he could do this.

"All right," he said, sticking out his hand, "Teddy Lupin."

Andrew turned and smiled, regarding Teddy's hand for a long moment, then he took it. "Andrew Pilkington. Pleasure to meet you, Teddy Lupin."

"The pleasure's mine, I assure you," Teddy replied in his snootiest voice, then he smiled back at Andrew.

"Seriously," he said, "Christmas at my dad's, all right? It's about the worst thing I can think of, you being alone on that day. And you and I don't have to be-- _whatever_ \--for you to experience the Lupin family Christmas." _But we could be_ , he added silently. He wasn't sure he was ready to say that out loud quite yet.

"I'll absolutely be there," said Andrew. He turned his head away for a moment, still holding Teddy's hand. When he turned back, his eyes were bright.

"You've got to--I should leave," he said suddenly, and Teddy furrowed his brow.

"Sorry?"

"You said you had to meet someone tonight. You should probably get ready, and I'll go."

"It's not even eight, and I'm not meeting Simon till ten." Teddy brushed his thumb across Andrew's wrist. "If you wanted to come with us, you could. We're going to a club; neither of us has been to one of those places before, and we figured it would be more comfortable if we went together, know what I mean? But if you're not up for it, that's fine, really. In any case you can have some dinner here. Nothing fancy, I was just going to make beans on toast or something, but I'd like you to stay for that."

"Okay. I'll have dinner." Andrew's lips quirked in a little smile that Teddy was glad to see. "Maybe I can help come up with something more interesting than beans on toast."

"Probably," Teddy agreed.

"About going to this club, though, I don't think I'm ready for that. Not wearing the right sort of clothes."

Teddy looked him over. "Your trousers are all right. I could lend you a shirt, although it might be rather tight on you." Not that a tight shirt on Andrew would be a bad thing.

"I--let me think about it for a bit, okay?"

"Sure. You have till I leave." Teddy stood up, pulling Andrew with him. "Think about it while we make dinner."

Andrew found eggs and cheese in Teddy's refrigerator, and a somewhat tired onion, and said he could make an omelette out of those if Teddy made toast. He heated a tin of tomatoes, too.

When they sat down to eat, Teddy took a bite and grinned. "Want to resume those cookery lessons?"

"Omelettes aren't as easy as they look," Andrew warned him. "It would take a while before you were up to making one."

"That's all right." Teddy ate some more. "I'd be learning other stuff along the way."

"You would." Andrew picked up a forkful of his own omelette and ate it thoughtfully. "I think we have a lot we could teach each other. Not just in the kitchen."

Teddy choked on the bit of omelette he'd just put in his mouth. He pounded on his chest. He could feel his face turning red.

"Um, yeah," he said once he'd recovered. "We definitely could. Both of us. Teach. The other." He was aware that he wasn't managing to string his sentence together very well, and he cleared his throat and tried again.

"Sorry," he said. "It went down the wrong way."

Andrew was grinning at him.

"What?" said Teddy. Andrew's gaze was making him blush a little. He felt around his mouth. "Something on my face?"

"Nah," said Andrew, "I just--it's really nice to see you again." He ducked his head after his pronouncement, and Teddy felt himself grinning as well.

"Same here," said Teddy. He took another bite of omelette. "So, have you decided about the club?" he asked when he'd chewed and swallowed his bite.

Andrew frowned. "I really don't know if I'd be any fun at a club," he confessed. "I'm complete shit at dancing, and, well, I know I finally managed to tell my parents, but that doesn't mean I'm necessarily ready for the rest of the world to know. I mean, what if someone from the team saw me there? I'd be fucked, that's what."

Teddy cocked his head. "If someone from your team sees you at Charon," he said, pointing his fork at Andrew, "then I think the two of you would have a _lot_ to talk about."

It took Andrew a moment to catch on. "Oh," he finally said, "I guess that's true, isn't it?" He still appeared nervous, though, sitting back in his chair and hugging himself.

"And, listen," Teddy continued. "Nobody's actually _good_ at dancing, I don't think. But what people _are_ good at is drinking large amounts of alcohol so they _think_ they're good at dancing. That's my own plan, quite honestly."

Andrew was smiling, and Teddy went on. "Besides, I think dancing's a lot like sex. And, if you don't mind my saying so, um, based on experience? I think you might be a fast learner on the dance floor."

"Flatterer." But Andrew's smile broadened. "I guess I could go. I don't _have_ to dance, I suppose."

"Nah. You could guard our drinks if you'd rather." Teddy put his fork down on his empty plate. "That was really good."

"Thanks," said Andrew, and ate the last bite of his own meal. "All right, then. If you'll lend me a shirt. I don't think a blue-striped button-down is quite the thing."

"Probably not," Teddy agreed. "I've a black pullover; it's a little long in the arm for me so it ought to be all right, though it'll be tight across the chest, I suspect."

He piled the dishes in the sink and left them, then went to find the shirt for Andrew.

"Not too bad." Andrew swung his arms to test it.

"Looks good on you," Teddy told him. The clinging fabric showed off Andrew's muscled chest very nicely. His fair hair hadn't been trimmed lately, and nearly came to his shoulders in a way that might have looked unkempt on some, but made Andrew look windblown, as if he'd just come from the Quidditch pitch.

Andrew flushed. "Can I leave my shirt here? I'll bring yours back tomorrow."

"Or you could come back tonight. If you feel up for it," Teddy added quickly. If they were going to try to start over, perhaps they should take it more slowly.

"Yeah." Andrew sat on the bed and watched as Teddy finished buttoning up a pair of black jeans, and then found a brilliant blue shirt to wear, changing his hair to match it. "Ted?"

Teddy turned. "What?"

"Never mind," said Andrew, looking embarrassed.

"Come on, tell me."

"I was just going to say that you look really hot like that," Andrew muttered.

"Oh--thanks." Teddy rubbed the back of his neck and looked at his shoes. "Um, I guess we're both ready, then. You can leave your coat here, too--I don't think we'll want to be bothered with them once we're inside. If there's a line, it might be a bit cold, but maybe we--well--never mind. Let's go, shall we?"

Andrew nodded, taking a deep breath and blowing it out. "Ready as I'll ever be."

"Okay. Hold on; I'll Apparate us. Unless you know where you're going?"

"No--I'll hold on." He took Teddy's arm, and Teddy pulled him close, marvelling at the contact when only a couple of hours ago they'd been relative strangers--enemies, practically.

Teddy concentrated, and they Apparated to right outside the club. Charon pulsed with music and life, and Andrew stayed close to Teddy as the two of them surveyed the building and the small crowd gathered outside.

"Not too bad--looks like we'll be able to get right in," said Teddy.

Andrew nodded and leaned close. "Where's your, um, your friend?"

"I don't--oh, my god. Um--there," Teddy said, indicating Simon, who was approaching them, grinning. Simon wore trousers that were so tight Teddy wondered how he was breathing, and a simple white shirt that clung perfectly to his small frame, unbuttoned just enough to let a little of his chest hair peek out. Teddy wondered how such a simple outfit could look so delicious on a person.

"Ted," said Simon, hugging him, "I'm so glad you're here. I've been too nervous to go in. I smoked two cigarettes, and I don't even smoke. Got them from that bloke over there. Hi--who're you?"

Teddy grinned. Simon was kind of cute when he was nervous.

He glanced at Andrew, who nodded. "This is Andrew," Teddy said, "a good friend of mine. He's like us--and he's never been to a club, either, so I said he could come along tonight. I hope that's all right."

Simon nodded, visibly flicking his gaze over Andrew's fit frame. "I should say so. Strength in numbers, and all that." He wiped his palms on the arse of his trousers. "God, I'm a wreck. Let's go get pissed."

There was a cover charge to pay, and then they were inside the smoky room that was larger than Teddy had expected, and fuller, too.

"Drinks first?" he suggested in a half-shout over the thumping music, and the other two nodded. "I'll buy the first round."

With pints in hand, they found a tall table to stand at that hadn't yet been claimed, probably because it was a bit out of the way.

"Ohmygod, do you see that?" Andrew said into Teddy's ear.

Teddy looked in the direction that Andrew was, and saw a bloke wearing almost nothing except a few leather straps and gyrating in a way that left very little to the imagination. "Wow. But look, most people are wearing pretty regular clothes, like us. See there."

Simon had already half-finished his beer, and he took another gulp. "I think we fit in okay."

"Definitely," said Teddy, although the fact that they were all drinking and not dancing was maybe a little different, but there were others doing the same. There were some women, too, dancing with each other; Teddy hadn't really thought about that, but he realised he shouldn't be surprised. He drank some more, and felt himself start to relax a little from the alcohol.

"Another round?" said Simon as soon as he'd finished his.

"Sure," Teddy agreed, though he still had a bit left, as did Andrew. Simon went to get them, and Teddy watched his arse as he walked.

"He's quite good-looking," said Andrew.

"Simon? Yeah, I suppose he is." Teddy wondered if Andrew guessed that Teddy had been with Simon... or if Andrew himself were attracted. Simon _was_ much more prepossessing like this than he had been in school robes, that was for sure.

"Someone tried to chat me up at the bar," were Simon's first words when he came back.

"Why didn't you stay then? That's what we're here for, more or less, isn't it?" Teddy took his fresh pint from Simon.

Simon snorted into his pint. "Um, well, for starters, he was old enough to be my father. And trust me, I have enough issues in that category as is--I don't need more, thanks."

This sent Andrew into peals of laughter, and Teddy forced himself to join in a moment later--it _was_ funny, and just because Simon wasn't the only one with daddy issues didn't mean Teddy couldn't laugh as well, separating himself for the night from all that he'd done with his own father.

"Well, we have all night," Teddy pointed out, "and it's not as if we fail if we don't each leave with someone, either." He flicked his gaze to Andrew after he'd said this, but Andrew didn't look upset at all. Good. Teddy was definitely willing to start over with Andrew, if that was indeed what ended up happening, but he couldn't help but be intrigued by the selection of gay men who were all _right there_ , and many of them quite good looking--and he suspected that was the case with Andrew, as well.

"If none of us find anyone, we could all leave together," said Simon, his cheeks pink. He'd was finishing his second pint--Teddy and Andrew were only a third of the way through theirs.

Teddy raised his eyebrows. Andrew coughed. They both stared out at the dance floor for a long moment.

Teddy would have been lying to himself if he'd said Simon's idea hadn't intrigued him, but he pushed the idea aside--that would only complicate things further. And besides, as he'd said to Simon once before, Simon would probably end up with six or seven boyfriends by the time the night was over.

Teddy didn't doubt that Andrew would get noticed, either--he was the picture of youthful masculinity, there in the corner in Teddy's black shirt, nursing his pint.

"Hey, Andrew--what do you do?" Simon asked, scooting his stool a little closer to Andrew's. Andrew immediately looked over at Teddy, and Teddy shrugged and nodded at him. Andrew was going to have to start handling things on his own.

Andrew took a deep breath. Teddy wondered if this coming-out was maybe harder for him in such an environment. "Well--I play Quidditch," he said. "Reserve chaser, um, for the Prides."

"Oh," said Simon, tipping his head back and draining the dregs from his pint. "I don't really follow Quidditch--sorry. I was never any good at it in school--but I'm sure you're brilliant."

" _Reserve_ Chaser," Andrew clarified, but he was smiling at Simon's offhand compliment. "How about you?"

"I work at the Ministry." Simon rubbed his nose. "I'm a file clerk in the Department of International Magical Cooperation. It's not really very exciting; I mean, there are some interesting cases, but they're confidential."

"But there's prospects for promotion, right?" Teddy asked.

Simon nodded. "I suppose. It pays the bills right now, anyhow. That's what mattered when I took it."

"Less chance of injury on the job than I have." Andrew's voice was a little rueful. "I don't get to play too often, but even practises can be brutal when the Beaters are on their game."

Teddy left them chatting and went to fetch the next round. The barman was busy, and he had to wait several minutes.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

The man speaking had Weasley-red hair, but Teddy didn't think he was one of that family; Teddy knew all of the Weasleys, after all, and this man looked too young to be any of them, only about ten years older than Teddy himself, he guessed.

"Um, I'm here with a couple of, of friends," Teddy stammered.

"That's okay," the man said with a smile. "I'd like to buy you one anyhow. I'm Charles, by the way. What's your name?"

"Er, Ted. I guess so, if you want." Teddy wasn't quite sure whether he wanted to turn down the offer or accept it, but the latter seemed easier. "We were drinking bitter."

Charles nodded, waving at the barman. "I haven't seen you here before, Ted."

"How do you know?" Teddy said instantly, but Charles only chuckled.

"I'm here pretty much every night. Believe me, I'd know if I'd seen either you or your two blond friends--you're a rather striking trio, you realise. Hard to overlook."

Teddy bit his lip. "Um. Thanks?"

Charles laughed. "I speak only the truth." The barman came over and Charles ordered pints of bitter for himself and for Teddy, then glanced over at the table in the corner.

"Make that four, actually," he called, and the barman nodded, and soon Teddy and Charles were on their way back, carrying two pints each to the table where Simon and Andrew were engrossed in conversation.

Teddy felt decidedly uncomfortable approaching the table with Charles by his side, especially when he caught the look on Andrew's face. He decided, however, to pretend as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

"Um, this is Charles," he said by way of introduction. "Charles--Andrew and Simon."

The three exchanged greetings and handshakes, and Teddy sat on his stool again. Charles, however, stayed standing, sipping casually from his pint as if this were a completely normal situation for him. Which, Teddy supposed, it probably was. He'd said he came here nearly every night, after all.

"Well, Ted," Charles said then, taking a gulp from his pint and setting it on the table, "I was thinking maybe you and I could have a dance. What do you say?"

Teddy looked back and forth between his friends and Charles several times.

"Oh," he said finally, "well, I don't know if--" He made a vague gesture that could have meant nearly anything.

"Andrew and Simon won't mind watching our drinks--will you, gents?" Simon nodded and, after a moment, so did Andrew, leaving Teddy with no choice but to follow Charles out onto the dance floor. He looked back at his friends helplessly as Charles led him away from the table--he wasn't _nearly_ drunk enough to do this. Fuck. Teddy knew perfectly well that he was _not_ a dancer.

They stepped onto the edge of the dance floor, and Charles bent close to speak into Teddy's ear--the music was much louder out there.

"You much of a dancer, Ted?" Teddy shook his head, mesmerised by the dancing that was going on--some people were dancing perfectly normally, but there were a few couples who were practically having sex there on the dance floor.

"Well, don't worry," said Charles. "You're with one of the best dancers in this whole club. Just follow me."

The beat was strong enough that Teddy was able to move to it, though he felt jerky and awkward, especially watching Charles, whose fluid motions managed to be incredibly sensual without ever quite becoming crude.

"Relax." Charles pulled Teddy closer, draping his arms around Teddy's shoulders and insinuating one knee between Teddy's legs. "Let yourself go; the music will tell you what to do."

Just then the tune changed, becoming mellower, sexier, and Teddy realised that the nearness of Charles's body, the tang of his sweat, was causing a reaction that wasn't at all what he was ready for. He swallowed hard and said, "Just one more song."

Charles nodded agreeably, although his fingers were brushing Teddy's neck in a way that suggested he had more in mind than just a dance. By the end of the song, indeed, Teddy was in no doubt that Charles was interested in doing anything with Teddy that Teddy might be willing to do.

"One more?" Charles suggested. "Now that you're a bit more accustomed to it?"

Teddy craned his head to see their table; only Andrew was still there. He caught sight of Simon on the dance floor with a dark-haired man. "Um, maybe later? I'm a bit thirsty," he excused himself lamely.

"I'll hold you to that," said Charles in his ear, then kissed him there, making Teddy jump. "New faces always interest me."

With his face flaming, Teddy made his way back over to Andrew.

"You looked as if you were enjoying that," said Andrew, his face turned slightly away.

"It was all right, I guess. He seemed a nice enough bloke, but I'm really a crap dancer. I felt like an idiot mostly." Teddy picked up his beer, still nearly full, and drank off almost a third of it. "Sorry to have stranded you."

Andrew shrugged. "Simon went off for a dance right after you did. Someone came and asked me too, but I'd said I'd watch the drinks, so I said no."

"Hey." Teddy touched Andrew's arm. "You didn't have to do that, if you wanted to go."

"I said I'd watch the drinks," Andrew repeated. He finished his pint and reached for Simon's abandoned one. "He doesn't look like he's coming back again anytime soon," he said by way of explanation.

Teddy thought that was fair enough, and he eyed the pint that Charles had left on their table, then scanned the room--the redhead was nowhere to be seen. It mightn't have been the most polite thing to do, but Teddy reached across the table and took the pint, downing nearly all that was left before either he or Andrew spoke again.

"Simon's having a good time out there," Andrew said, gesturing towards the dance floor. Indeed it looked like he was; he was wrapped around a different man from the one Teddy had seen him with earlier, gyrating to the beat of the music.

Teddy drained the last of the beer in front of him, then grabbed Andrew's hand. "Sod this. Let's go."

Andrew jerked his hand away. "Go where?"

"Let's dance. No excuses." Teddy tugged Andrew onto the dance floor just as a slower song began playing, a song with a beat that Teddy could almost have sworn was coming from inside himself.

"Ted, I don't know how to dance, I really don't--" Andrew protested, but Teddy just wrapped his arms around Andrew's neck and pressed their bodies together.

"Just move," he whispered in Andrew's ear, much as Charles had done to him not too much earlier, "and don't worry--you can't possibly be a worse dancer than I am."

That brought a smile to Andrew's face, and though he murmured something that sounded like _I doubt that_ , he put his arms around Teddy's neck. They began to sway to the music, not moving much, just letting the music and the noises of the crowd wash over them.

Teddy let his eyes flutter closed, just breathing in the scent of Andrew, so near and so warm. If he moved his head just a little, he could kiss Andrew's neck--but no, he really shouldn't, not here where everyone could see. That would only scare Andrew, probably, and wasn't that how they'd begun the first time? Snogging in a gay club wasn't exactly different from snogging in a pub. It was still public.

And there was Simon to think about, too--not that Teddy was _thinking about Simon_ , but Teddy thought it probably wouldn't be any fun for Simon to be the odd man out. No, he'd stay just as he was, just holding Andrew and moving to the music. Teddy had seen what happened when he rushed into things without thinking.

This felt _right_. He leaned his head into Andrew's neck and pulled them closer still, their bodies aligning. He could feel Andrew relaxing, beginning to move with him a little more freely. The lyrics of the song were shite, but that didn't matter, it was the beat, the melody, that drew them along.

"See?" he said in the relative quiet of the final bars. "You're not so bad."

As the next song began, much faster, Andrew rolled his eyes. "Just wait." But he stayed, dancing with more determination than grace.

Maybe he _was_ worse than Teddy, but not by much--and Teddy didn't care as long as they were both making the effort. They stayed out for several more songs, finishing with another relatively slow one. By now they were both sweating and when Teddy put his arms around Andrew again, his shirt was damp under Teddy's fingers. Why that was such a turn-on Teddy didn't know, but he wasn't sure how he'd make it off the dance floor sporting an embarrassing bulge in his trousers. He tried pulling his hips back, but Andrew wouldn't let him. _Oh._ Teddy realised that he wasn't the only one with that issue, and looked up to see that Andrew had gone a bit pink, visible even in the strange flashing light.

"Yeah, I know," Andrew mumbled.

He steered them, still dancing, towards their table. Teddy spotted Simon again, with yet another man.

"I'm thirsty; my turn to buy," said Andrew when they had reached the edge of the floor. Teddy nodded and went to perch on his stool. Luckily no one had taken over the table. He watched the dancers, distracted by the insistent throb of his erection, and surreptitiously tried to adjust his clothing.

"Here," Andrew said, setting down two pints. "When Simon comes back I'll get his."

"He seems pretty busy," said Teddy. Simon was now dancing with Charles, which mightn't be a bad thing, Teddy decided. He'd been nice enough, and not _too_ old, and in other circumstances Teddy might well have been keen on him but he'd rather be with Andrew tonight, and he wasn't sure how to say no to Charles effectively.

"True." Andrew had pulled his stool around so that his arm brushed Teddy's. "Do you think he'll want to stay much longer?"

"No idea; he'll come back for another drink at some point, I'm sure, and we can ask."

The two of them sat in silence for a while--as much silence as could be found in Charon--just sipping at their pints and occasionally brushing against each other. Teddy wasn't sure if Andrew was brushing against him on purpose or not, but he knew that his own movements were definitely not accidental.

When Simon finally took a break from dancing, he returned to their table with his fringe plastered to his forehead with sweat, his white shirt nearly transparent. He blew out a long breath, grinning, and hopped up on his stool.

"I," Simon declared, "am exhausted. And quite drunk. And having a brilliant time so far."

"So we noticed," replied Teddy, grinning. Andrew said nothing, just slipped from his stool and made his way towards the bar, presumably to fetch the promised pint for Simon.

"Any, er, prospects?" asked Teddy, nodding towards the dance floor.

Simon shoved his damp fringe off his face, turning slightly pink. "Nah," he said, "I was just having fun out there, you know? I didn't exactly expect so many blokes to want to dance with me."

Teddy raised his eyebrows and leaned closer to Simon. "I hate to say I told you so, but, well, I _did_. Besides, you look sodding gorgeous tonight, and you know it." The words rushed out of Teddy's mouth before he had realised what he was going to say, and he felt himself turning pink. "I'm glad you're having a good time," he finished lamely.

"I am," said Simon, giving Teddy an odd look for a fleeting moment, then smiling at him. He turned his head away, ostensibly looking for Andrew, then turned back and reached for Teddy's pint. "Mind if I have some? I'm dying, and I don't think Andrew's going to get anywhere close to that bar anytime soon."

Teddy nodded, and Simon drank deeply from Teddy's pint.

"Hey," Simon said when he'd finished. "What about that bloke you were telling me about? The one you said you really liked, but he was too afraid to be open about being queer?"

Teddy sat back, considering his answer. "What about him?" he finally asked.

Simon shrugged. "Dunno. I was just thinking, it's odd, you know, the three of us, being here where _everybody_ is open--even I feel comfortable. That red-haired bloke I was dancing with was touching my arse, and--and it was okay, you know? And I'm having a great time. I feel all right. I guess I just wish everyone could feel this good. Even your friend--whassisname."

"Maybe he will, sometime," said Teddy, avoiding saying a name. Simon would probably figure it out eventually, but better not tonight when he was drunk enough to be indiscreet.

"You looked like you two were all right dancing," Simon said.

"It was okay. Compared to some of those blokes, though..." Teddy jabbed his thumb toward the dance floor.

"They just have more experience." Simon coughed and blushed. "D'you mind?" he asked, lifting Teddy's pint again.

Teddy shook his head and Simon took another swallow.

"Look, Simon, if you _did_ find someone you wanted to, you know, spend time with," Teddy felt slightly ridiculous mouthing the euphemism, but he wasn't up for saying _you wanted to fuck_ when he was pretty certain Simon wouldn't be ready for that, and _you wanted to kiss_ sounded far too schoolboyish, "don't worry about me, or Andrew. I mean, we came here to see what it was like, but also maybe to meet blokes, right, so you should go ahead if you did. Meet someone, that is."

Simon grinned. "No fear. And same goes for you... although I'm thinking there might be something between you and Andrew, yeah?"

"Yeah, maybe." Teddy smiled, looking down at the table.

"He's a looker. I'm surprised no one's come on to him," said Simon.

"Someone asked him to dance right after you first started," said Teddy. "But he's a bit shy, more than you or me even. So I made him dance with me instead."

At that point Andrew finally returned with the drinks; he'd gone ahead and brought another three, waving aside their protests that it wasn't his turn. "We can settle up later, if it matters," he said firmly.

Simon tossed back a good half of his pint rapidly. Teddy worried a little about that, Simon being relatively slight, but he seemed all right so far. "I'm going to dance again. You?"

"Not yet," Teddy demurred, and Andrew shook his head also.

As Simon slid down from his stool, Charles appeared. He gave Teddy a wink and a shrug, as if to say, "Never mind after all," and smoothly led Simon out to the dance floor.

Teddy nudged Andrew with his elbow. "How much longer do you think you want to stay?"

Andrew shrugged. "I don't know--I'm probably not going to get asked to dance again. I was actually thinking of leaving."

"Don't be such a miserable bastard, Andrew. I'd dance with you all night," Teddy replied.

Andrew raised his eyebrows. "You would?"

"Didn't it seem like it, when we were out there?" Teddy knew there was no way Andrew could have forgotten the fact that they'd both gotten hard on the dance floor.

Andrew nodded slowly, drinking. "I suppose so," he said then. "Did--is that what you want to do?"

Teddy shook his head. "I'm pretty tired," he confessed, "and more than a little sweaty. I thought maybe we could get out of here. Unless you wanted to?"

"Nah. I need to breathe. Let's go," Andrew replied. They slid off their stools and Teddy scanned the dance floor for Simon, finally catching sight of him in the arms of a slightly older man with a shaved head and a black goatee.

"Um, maybe we should rescue Simon first," Teddy suggested, moving towards the dance floor. "You wait here--I'll be right back." He made his way through the throng, finally reaching Simon and his partner. He tapped Simon on the shoulder, and Simon whirled around.

"Ted!" he shrieked, and he threw his arms around Teddy's neck, trying to get him to dance. Simon's previous partner tossed Teddy an annoyed look, but he was soon gone, swallowed by the crowd, and Teddy put his arms around Simon, holding him up.

"Hey--we're going," he shouted in Simon's ear, over the thump of the music. "Come on--I'll take you home."

Simon shook his head, pouting. "I'm having too much fun," he shouted back.

"No way. Not leaving you here, not when you're this drunk, not tonight. Let's go." Teddy hauled a protesting Simon off the dance floor, and he and Andrew helped him out of the club.

In the chilly air of the street, Simon sobered up a little, to Teddy's relief. "What time is it?" he asked.

"I'm not sure. Between one and two, probably?"

Andrew said, "Twenty past one."

"Damn. That went by fast." Simon gave a gusty, beer-scented sigh. "I suppose I'd better go home."

"We'll walk you there," said Teddy. He knew that Simon lived close by, and was in no fit state to Apparate. It was only five minutes before they were at Simon's flat, shivering.

"Next week again, maybe?" asked Simon hopefully. "I really had a good time."

"Not next weekend; it's Christmas. But soon, yeah, we should." Teddy grinned. "It _was_ pretty fun. You could go on your own, too, you know. There were lots of blokes who seemed quite keen to know you better."

Simon went pink. "I'd be nervous by myself. I'd rather go with you and Andrew."

"We'll work something out," Teddy promised. "Get some sleep. And drink some hangover potion first!"

"Yeah. G'night, Ted. It was good to meet you, Andrew." Simon flashed a knowing grin and went inside.

"You okay to Apparate?" Teddy asked Andrew. He knew he was still a little drunk himself, but going home should be all right, and Andrew had had less than Teddy had.

"I think so. Your flat?" Andrew had his hands tucked up under his armpits, trying to keep them warm.

Teddy nodded, and they Apparated straight there. It was wonderfully cosy after the cold outside, but Teddy caught Andrew by the elbow and hugged him close anyway.

"I'm really glad you decided to go tonight," he said into Andrew's shoulder. "I liked dancing with you--a lot."

Andrew wrapped his arms around Teddy's waist and pressed his face to Teddy's neck. "Me, too," he said. "Sorry if I was a bit of a grumpy bastard part of the time--I really did have a good night."

"Good," said Teddy, and they just stood there embracing for a long moment.

"So, um, Simon's just a friend of yours?" Andrew asked, disentangling himself from Teddy.

"Yeah--why, are you interested?" Teddy smirked.

"In Simon? No. Well--I mean, he's definitely fit--I might be if I wasn't already interested in someone else."

"Oh, yeah?" said Teddy, feigning casualness, his hands in his pockets. "Who d'you fancy, then?"

"Shut up," replied Andrew, shoving Teddy a little, smiling and looking at his shoes.

Teddy laughed. "Well, if you're not going to tell me, then I think you'd better give me my shirt back--I don't lend clothes to people who keep secrets from me."

Andrew raised his eyebrows. "That's a terrible come-on," he said, and when Teddy didn't reply, he rounded his mouth in an O. "That--it _was_ a come-on, wasn't it? I mean--"

"Yeah," replied Teddy, tugging at the hem of the shirt he'd lent to Andrew, "it definitely was. Now give me my shirt back, and don't get any more of your smelly Quidditch sweat on it."

"It's not Quidditch sweat," laughed Andrew, pulling the shirt over his head. "It's _club_ sweat. This is an entirely new sort of sweat for me. Enjoy it while it lasts." He threw the shirt in Teddy's face, still laughing.

"I know of another kind of sweat I like," said Teddy, dropping the shirt on the floor and moving closer, putting his arms about Andrew's waist. He hesitated, then kissed Andrew gently on the lips.

After a fraction of a second's pause, Andrew kissed him back.

"It's okay?" whispered Teddy against Andrew's mouth.

"Yeah," Andrew whispered back, "I would say it is _definitely_ okay." His hands slid up underneath Teddy's shirt. "Except that it's not fair for you to be wearing more than I am," he said between kisses along Teddy's jaw.

"It's not _that_ warm in here," Teddy pointed out. Andrew's hands were still chilly from being outside. "If I take my shirt off too, won't we both be cold?"

"Do you really care?"

"No," Teddy admitted. He let Andrew pull his shirt off, then guided them toward the sofa. "But maybe we'd better stick at that for tonight, huh?"

Andrew shoved his fringe back from his face and sighed. "I suppose that's probably best."

"I'd rather wait and have it be what we both want." Teddy sat down, pulling Andrew down next to him. "Wouldn't you?"

"I--" Andrew swallowed. "Yeah. Since we kind of cocked things up before." He put his hand up to Teddy's face, stroking his thumb along Teddy's cheek. " _You're_ what I want, you know that."

Teddy's heart gave a queer thump. He parted his lips as Andrew touched them, kissing Andrew's fingers. "I want you, too. But not tonight."

He was very conscious of both his own arousal and Andrew's. It would be easy to do what they'd done before, sucking each other off or maybe even rimming, but he wanted _more_ , wanted to have whatever they did be special, to mean more than just that they each thought the other was pretty hot. This time he didn't want to find out too late about something that would mess things up between them.

"Trousers stay on, then," Andrew agreed. He shifted, turning sideways and leaning against the arm of the sofa so that Teddy could half-recline on top of him, their bodies fitting together again as they had when they danced. Their lips met, tongues exploring softly the geography of each other's mouths. Teddy put one hand between their chests to stroke Andrew's flat nipples, and Andrew caught his breath and pushed his hips up against Teddy, holding onto Teddy's arse.

"Oh, _yeah_ ," he breathed. "You can do that as much as you like."

"I could do it all night," Teddy breathed. He felt a chuckle rumble through Andrew's chest below him.

"What? I _could_!"

"Earlier you said you could dance with me all night. Which is it?"

Teddy smiled and kissed Andrew again. "Both. Either. Whichever we happen to be doing at the time. I don't know." Teddy laughed. "Shut up and just kiss me again, will you?"

Andrew pressed his lips to Teddy's, opening his mouth so they could both explore with their tongues. Teddy stroked over Andrew's nipples again, turning them to resilient little pebbles on his chest.

"Fuck," gasped Andrew. He kneaded Teddy's arse, and Teddy wasn't sure whether he wanted to push back against Andrew's hands or forward against Andrew's insistent erection. He settled for doing both, realising belatedly that it must feel to Andrew like Teddy was trying to fuck him. He stopped, not without a great deal of reluctance.

Andrew's eyes flew open. "Why'd you stop? That was brilliant."

"I don't--didn't want to do too much, you know?" He bent to press kisses to the side of Andrew's neck. "I don't want things to get out of control."

"If you keep doing _that_ ," moaned Andrew, arching his neck back so Teddy could kiss him more easily, "things are going to get out of control really bloody quickly."

"Bugger," said Teddy, and he licked the skin he'd just been kissing.

"Maybe--I mean, we could still keep our trousers on, like we said we would, but sometimes--" Andrew blushed.

"Sometimes what?" Teddy was eager for any suggestion.

"Sometimes, I don't know, have you ever just rubbed against something--well, in our case, some _one_? I'll bet it'd be brilliant. Trousers on. And then we can just--we can sleep, or I can go, or whatever, but right now, Ted, I'm honestly not sure I could even stand up, I'm so fucking hard for you."

Hearing Andrew say that made Teddy's cock feel like it was going to drill right through his pants and trousers, both. "Me too. For you," he said, as if Andrew couldn't feel it for himself. The idea was irresistible. He bit at Andrew's neck and moved his hips some more.

"Oh, _fuck_ yeah, that's good," Andrew said with a groan, rubbing right back and moving his hands over Teddy's arse. "Just like _that_ , god, _Ted_ ," and his fingers dug into Teddy's flesh.

"Andrew, Andrew, _Andrew_!" Teddy panted the name repeatedly as he drew nearer to orgasm. He wriggled a little, trying to make it so that the zip didn't press against oversensitized flesh. Andrew let go with one hand and reached in between them--Teddy guessed he was having the same problem--and then the rough metal had slipped sideways and the friction against his prick was perfect, perfect, and he was spurting into his pants, sticky and messy and all he could do was hang on as Andrew grunted and thrust and squeezed his eyes shut as he came too.

Teddy didn't want to move. He wanted to fall asleep right there, with his semen gluing his pants and trousers to his skin, and the sweat drying on his back, and Andrew's arms around him.

"That was quick," Andrew said, a hint of laughter in his voice.

"You said it would be, if we kept doing what we were doing. But why wait?" Teddy tasted Andrew's neck, nibbling his way up to Andrew's face.

"Because now I should go?"

"No. Stay," said Teddy, not sure if this was the right thing to do, but sure that it was what he wanted. "I'll lend you some pyjamas. But I'd like to sleep with you tonight... just sleep. And tomorrow we can talk about whatever. Okay?"

"Okay," said Andrew, and Teddy hugged him close.  



	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus and Sam, Teddy and Andrew spend Christmas Eve together at Remus's house, and play charades.

Remus set down his half-eaten sandwich and pulled the parchment a little closer. He was snatching lunch at the Leaky Cauldron and trying to make out his shopping list at the same time, with the result that he was getting greasy cheese smears on the parchment and failing to remember half the things he knew he'd thought of earlier in the day.

 _Tree_ , yes, that practically went without saying. He'd never forget to buy the Christmas tree. The strings of fairy lights all still worked, he'd checked them last night, and there were more baubles and balls in the ornament box than could fit on two trees. _Tinsel_ , though. And _holly_ for the mantel.

He'd done nearly all of his gift shopping already, not that he had _that_ many people to give to, but by the twenty-third of December he had better start wrapping packages, not still be buying. Teddy, of course, and Sam. Remus smiled. He had smaller gifts for Andromeda, various Potters and Weasleys, and a few other friends.

One more to find, though. Teddy had sent a note to say that he had invited Andrew over for both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day--Remus assumed that meant the night between as well--and so Remus supposed that there had better be something for him. Perhaps a book on Quidditch would be suitable, if obvious; there were several recently published ones that Remus doubted Andrew would own. He'd look on the shelves of Flourish and Blotts this afternoon.

Remus sat back in his chair, tapping his quill against his chin. He'd known for a few days now that Andrew would be spending the night on Christmas Eve, but he hadn't actually given the matter much thought.

Obviously he and Teddy had made up after their fight. And if Remus knew his stubborn son, that must have meant that Andrew had come around, at least somewhat.

Remus did wonder, however, why the boy wouldn't be spending Christmas with his own family. Teddy hadn't alluded to that in the letter, and Remus didn't want to pry, as curious as he was. He couldn't remember if Andrew had mentioned his family at all when they'd all met for the concert--perhaps he had none, poor boy.

He nodded and underlined Andrew's name on his parchment. He'd get the boy an extra present, since he likely wouldn't be getting anything from his own family if he wasn't spending Christmas with them. He didn't know what--the book on Quidditch had exhausted his store of knowledge about Andrew. Maybe Sam would have an idea--he was so much better at buying presents for young people than Remus ever had been.

He could owl Teddy, perhaps--but no. Best to just leave him be; he was doubtless busy with his own preparations for the holidays, and working overtime at the apothecary, no doubt.

Remus finished the last bites of his lunch, pushed his plate aside, and read over his list. God--he'd forgotten the dinner altogether. He scribbled a list of some ingredients he knew he'd need to pick up, wiped his mouth on his napkin, nodded, and plunked down a few coins to pay his bill, heading back to work.

Flourish and Blotts was busy--no, busy was an understatement. It was _mobbed_ , and the holiday help--which, to give the manager his due, was brought in every year--was as clueless as all the previous batches. The moment Remus walked in the door, he was flagged down by Susan, a lovely blonde girl who could barely alphabetise.

"Let me get my cloak off first," he called, hanging it on a hook behind the counter. He shoved the list he'd been working on into his pocket and rushed over to help Susan assist a customer. When he'd finished locating the book the customer wanted--not a difficult task, as there was a large display of that very book on a table not three feet from where Susan was dithering--he turned away with a sigh and closed his eyes for a moment. Crowds tended to exhaust Remus, but there was nothing he could do in this particular crowd but carry on until the day was through.

He did manage to snatch a copy of Finbar Quigley's autobiography--since he was retired, the fact that he'd captained the Ballycastle Bats and not Portree oughtn't to be a problem--and put it behind the counter to take home with him.

By the time they shut the doors that evening, Remus was more than ready to leave. He'd have to open in the morning, but could leave at noon as the manager was closing. Hopefully he'd have time to race 'round and find a second gift for Andrew, and if not, at least he had _something_. But now he needed to hurry and buy the tree to take home tonight. It could sit in a bucket of water until tomorrow.

The tree he chose was a large one, nearly eight feet, and a lovely deep green. After some thought, he bought two bundles of holly and some mistletoe as well. Remus waited while the Diminishment Charm was applied, wondering absently how Muggles managed. He tucked the tree and other plants into his pocket and went to buy the food. Tonight he might be tired and the shops busy, but tomorrow would be even worse. Moreover if he found he had forgotten something, he could send out Teddy tomorrow afternoon.

Laden with carrier bags, Remus Apparated home and wearily began putting away the groceries: potatoes and onions in the bin, roast and other perishables in the refrigerator, flour and sugar in the cupboards. He had eaten the last of a curry the night before and found himself reduced to heating a tin of soup for his own dinner. Well, the next few days would make up for that. He sorted through the post as he spooned up soggy vegetables. Half a dozen holiday cards, several advertisements for things he had no interest in, a couple of bills.

Sam found him nodding over his empty bowl at half past nine.

"You're trying to do too much," he scolded Remus gently. "Come on, bed. You have to work tomorrow, don't you?"

Remus sighed. "Yes, but only half a day. I just wanted to run all my errands today so that after I finish tomorrow, I could relax."

"Humph. You could have asked me to do some of them," said Sam. "Yes, I have lessons to give and meetings to attend, but my time is still a good deal more flexible than yours is--and I can't think of a better way to spend it than by doing things for you, if you need me."

"I know." Remus's voice was sharper than he intended, and he modulated it, repeating, "I know, Sam, and I appreciate that, truly; I'm just not quite used to having someone I can depend on."

"Understandably." Sam put Remus's dishes in the sink and made him stand up, putting his arms around him. "So, you work in the morning; why not let me do a few things for you then? What do you still have to do?"

Remus ticked off on his fingers. "I need to put up the holly and the mistletoe and get the tree set up and get the lights on it so we can decorate it tomorrow when Teddy and Andrew are here--did I tell you Andrew's coming?"

"Is he? Didn't you tell me he and Teddy had a big falling-out?"

Remus nodded and leaned against the counter, yawning. "Yes--because Andrew was afraid to come out. I don't know the details of their making up, but apparently they have and are now spending time together again. As to why Andrew's coming here for Christmas, I haven't a clue. I don't know if he has a family at all."

"Oh, that's unfortunate," said Sam. "Did you find a present for him?" He took Remus's hand and tugged him, protesting, towards the stairs.

"I've got to finish--" said Remus, but Sam kept tugging.

"I'll do it all while you're at work tomorrow," Sam replied with a kiss to Remus's knuckles, and Remus acquiesced.

"So did you get something for Andrew?" Sam asked again as they mounted the stairs.

"Yes--a book on Quidditch--but I thought I might look for something else for him as well. I don't suppose you have any ideas? You're better at this sort of thing than I am. My solution is always a book."

Sam grinned as they entered the bedroom and began undressing for bed. "I love that about you," he said. "It's charming."

"Charming, perhaps," said Remus, "but hardly useful when it comes to a teenaged boy who happens to be a professional Quidditch player and my son's boyfriend--wow."

"Wow, indeed--is it odd to think of him as such?"

Remus finished putting on his pyjamas and climbed into bed, putting his arms around Sam. "No," he said, "I'm just glad Teddy's happy--he seems to be, anyway."

Sam kissed his forehead. "Well, since the boy makes both Teddy and you happy, I'll see if I can't find another gift for him tomorrow."

"Thank you." Remus relaxed against the warmth of Sam's body. "Sam?"

"Hm?"

"It does seem like you're the one always coming over here, and doing so much for me. I feel, I don't know, that you make all the effort and I don't do enough in return."

"I _like_ staying here." Sam's embrace tightened slightly. "Not that I don't like my own flat--I do--but your house feels more like a home. Maybe because Teddy lived here; my place has only ever had me in it, on a permanent basis at least. But can we talk about this another time?"

Remus nodded sleepily. "I just wanted to ask."

"Yes. Sh. Sleep."

Sam was snoring lightly when Remus woke up two minutes before his alarm, and quickly turned it off. He showered and dressed and made his breakfast, including a full pot of tea, and then went back upstairs to kiss Sam goodbye.

"Present for Andrew, tree and lights, holly and mistletoe," Sam ticked off on his fingers, nearly upsetting the cup of tea that Remus had brought him. "Anything else?"

"I don't think so. We always have a very simple dinner on Christmas Eve, either bangers and mash or we go fetch in fish and chips, since the afternoon is spent decorating and wrapping last gifts and so on," Remus explained. "I'm not sure when Teddy will arrive, but I'll be home shortly after noon and I can't imagine he'd get here any sooner. Whether Andrew will come with him or later in the day, I don't know."

"Don't worry about it," Sam assured him. "I'll go present-hunting first thing and then I'll come back here. The tree will be up and ready."

"Thanks." Remus made a wry face. "Wish me luck in surviving the last-minute shopping crush."

Luck duly wished, with an extra kiss for good measure, Remus faced the busy morning with relative equanimity.

The day could have been much worse--Remus only had to extricate Susan from a handful of dilemmas, and he finally hinted that perhaps she'd do better to man the gift-wrapping station instead of helping the customers. He saw more than a few familiar faces out doing last minute shopping, Harry among them, and assured him that he'd be at the Boxing Day party, plus one.

"And Teddy, too?" asked Harry, stowing his parcel under his arm.

Remus nodded. "I believe he'll be there--he may also be bringing a guest."

Harry grinned. "Is he back with Victoire? Only I hadn't heard. She doesn't count as a guest, though--she's family, and she's invited anyhow."

"No--not Victoire. Someone else, someone he met recently." It wasn't his place to tell Harry--or anyone else for that matter--about Teddy's personal life. They'd all find out at the party, if Teddy did indeed bring Andrew along.

"Well, I'll certainly be keen to meet the lucky girl," Harry said, winking. He checked his watch and frowned. "Damn--I'm going to be late, and I've still got a few more things to pick up. Molly'll have my neck if I'm not at the Burrow when I said I'd be. See you in a couple of days!" And Harry disappeared into the Christmas Eve shopping throng.

Remus raised a hand in farewell, though he knew Harry wouldn't see it, and made a mental note to pull Teddy aside sometime in the next couple of days and tell him about the conversation he'd just had. It would be only fair.

At half-past noon, a full thirty minutes later than he'd intended, Remus walked in the front door of his home to find that Sam had indeed done all that he'd promised he'd do that morning. The tree was up and glimmering with fairy lights, the mantel was decorated with holly, and mistletoe hung in the doorway to the living room. The whole house smelled of mulling spices, and Sam sat in Remus's favourite armchair, holding a mug of cider, clearly pleased with himself.

"You," Remus declared, "are amazing."

Sam shrugged. "Oh, I know it," he said, and he got up, crossing the room to plant a cidery kiss on Remus's mouth. "Happy Christmas," he said. "I'm so glad we're spending it together."

"Me, too." Remus kissed him back. The kiss became more complicated, until Sam pulled away, laughing.

"If we're going to do _that_ maybe we should go upstairs, lest Teddy walk in on us again?"

"Mm." Remus rubbed his nose against Sam's neck. "I think I can wait for tonight. There's still lots to do around here first, anyhow. Have you eaten any lunch?"

"I was waiting for you. There's cider, and I picked up some good bread and cheese and olives and things."

"Sounds marvellous," said Remus gratefully.

Despite Remus's avowed intention of waiting for night, he and Sam were feeding each other olives at the kitchen table when the front door banged and Teddy's voice rang cheerfully down the hall, "Hey, Dad, where are you?"

"In the kitchen," Remus called back, and hastily buttoned his cardigan and was taking a sip of cider when Teddy came in, followed by Andrew.

"Cider, boys?" Sam asked them. He'd been no less disarranged than Remus, but somehow managed to look completely calm and pulled-together as he stood by the cider kettle, holding a ladle.

"Sure," Teddy replied, and Andrew nodded also.

"Andrew, I'm so glad you were able to come spend today and tomorrow with us," Remus said. "It will be fun to have a houseful."

"Thank you, Mr Lupin. Remus," Andrew corrected himself before Remus could remind him. "It was great of Ted to invite me."

Remus saw Andrew squeeze Teddy's hand, and his son's hair turned a brighter magenta.

"The least I could do. Cheers," he said as Sam handed each of them mugs. "Happy Christmas Eve, everyone."

They all lifted their mugs and drank, and then Sam put his on the counter, saying, "I understand that the next order of business is to trim the tree? If you two have eaten?"

"Yeah, we stopped at my place and grabbed something," Teddy said.

"Oh, Teddy, you didn't attempt to cook for poor Andrew, did you?" Remus joked.

"Actually," Andrew interrupted, before Teddy could reply, "Teddy's not that bad of a cook. I've been teaching him how--I learned from, um--I learned when I was a kid." His cheeks turned pink, and Teddy stepped forward.

"We just had some leftover takeaway for lunch, though," he clarified. "Um--shall we all go and trim the tree now?"

The four men made their way into the living room where the tree was set up, Teddy and Andrew leading the way. Remus tried hard--but failed--to suppress a grin when Teddy noticed the mistletoe in the doorway and hastily stepped back, letting Andrew pass through ahead of him. The two of them clearly hadn't worked their way up to kissing in front of Remus yet--and, if Remus were honest with himself, that was perfectly all right.

Andrew and Teddy were clearly enamoured of each other though, Remus thought, finding excuses to be near each other, brushing against each other constantly. Teddy seemed to regress into his childhood somewhat when he found his favourite ornaments, displaying them for Andrew with obvious glee, then nudging them into Andrew's hands so he could hang them on the tree.

After a little while of this, Remus retired to the sofa, pulling Sam down with him. The two of them sat quite close together, Remus's hand nestled in Sam's larger one, watching the two boys.

 _It's like having a proper family_ , Remus thought. He squeezed Sam's hand as Christmas music from the wireless filled the air and Teddy and Andrew laughed together over some private joke. _Probably not many people's idea of a family... but it works for me._

He looked over at Sam, then, who was grinning broadly, watching the boys.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Oh--" Sam laughed as if he'd been caught thinking about something embarrassing. "Nothing, really," he said, keeping his voice low, "I was just thinking how this is a little like having a proper family, you know?"

"I do know," replied Remus, and a wave of something wonderful washed over him. "I was thinking exactly the same thing."

Sam kissed him on the cheek. "Great minds," he murmured in Remus's ear, then kissed him on the neck as well, making Remus shiver.

He saw that Teddy was looking in their direction, and thought about suggesting that they be more discreet--then thought better of it. It was just a simple kiss, really, and if Tonks had lived and they'd done just that, there would be nothing to bat an eye over. He and Sam were increasingly serious, so why pretend otherwise?

Teddy had paused, and Andrew said, "Pass me another?"

"Oh, sorry," said Teddy hastily, and rummaged for the next ornament. "My grandmum gave me this one when I was about ten, long before I realised I'd never be a great Quidditch player." He handed Andrew a tiny broom, complete with a figure in purple Quidditch robes. Teddy had always insisted that it was a Chaser, although Remus thought it was a Seeker; the ball had been lost the first Christmas, so there was no way to tell.

Andrew broke into an enormous grin when he took it. "You realise this is a Portree player?"

"I never thought about that!" Teddy said, laughing. "I guess it is, in purple. Maybe that says you were meant to be here?"

Remus couldn't hear Andrew's response, but it made Teddy give a muffled snort and glance over at his father and Sam.

"Maybe more cider?" Remus suggested. They weren't going anywhere, except perhaps to go fetch fish and chips in a couple of hours, and becoming a little intoxicated in midafternoon on Christmas Eve with loved ones around seemed perfectly fine to Remus.

"Sounds good," Sam agreed.

Remus stood and collected everyone's mugs, bringing them back filled with steaming fragrant cider. "There's enough for at least one more round, but I turned the heat off so the spices wouldn't get too bitter," he told Sam.

The tree was quite thoroughly decorated by now, with Teddy and Andrew's hard work. "Just one thing left," Teddy told Andrew. "We put a star on top, the very last thing."

It was a plain silver star, a little rubbed-looking now; Remus had had it for nearly forty years. The dog star, he called it to himself, for it had been Sirius who had chosen it, the first Christmas the two of them had celebrated together. Tonks had added three small gold stars to its centre, the one Christmas they had had: one each for herself and Remus, and one for the baby she was already expecting. A lump formed in Remus's throat and he leaned his head on Sam's shoulder as he watched Andrew levitate Teddy so that his son could place the star.

He swallowed hard as Teddy touched the ground again, turning around to display the ornament-laden tree.

"What do you think, Dad?"

"It's glorious," Remus replied. "You boys did a perfect job."

Teddy and Andrew smiled tiny smiles at each other, then Teddy leaned over, hesitated for the barest second, and brushed what could scarcely be called a kiss over Andrew's cheek.

Andrew stepped back, his eyes wide, and Remus hastily turned his head to look anywhere else--he didn't want Andrew to think Teddy's father had been _staring_ \--but when he looked back, the two of them were holding hands and looking up at the star on top of the tree.

"See, there's one for me, and my dad, and my mum," said Teddy, "Only now I suppose it's one for me, and you, and Sam, and my dad can be the big silver one. Or something." He laughed, and so did Andrew.

Remus cringed only a little-- _Sirius_ was the big silver star. He could never live up to something like that, himself.

"Hey--you've never seen my room, have you?" Teddy said then, and Andrew shook his head.

"No--the only time I've ever been here, we were all heading right back out for the concert, and I only saw the kitchen and hallway."

Teddy looked at Remus, then back at Andrew. "D'you want to see it? We have to take our things up there, anyway." He glanced at Remus again. "It's okay?"

Remus nodded. "Of course," he said, then hesitated. He really wanted to say something like _Leave the door open_ or _Don't be too long_ or _Please do try not to have sex while you're up there_ , but he knew full well that would only embarrass them all, and besides, Teddy had more respect for him and for Christmas than that--he hoped.

Teddy and Andrew thundered up the stairs, after stopping in the kitchen long enough to grab the small bag they'd packed to stay overnight. When their footsteps had reached the vicinity of Teddy's room, Remus waited, but he didn't hear the door close, and he nodded with relief.

"Well done," said Sam.

"What?"

"You didn't put on the Worried Remus face when they went upstairs." Sam was laughing at him, but in a sympathetic way. "I could tell what you were thinking though, and I bet Ted could too."

"I know, I know." Remus laughed a little too. "Killjoy old dad, that's me."

"Hardly; you're letting Andrew stay overnight, after all." Sam brushed his fingertips over Remus's bare neck. "Pretty permissive, in my book."

"You're staying, too," Remus pointed out. "It would be hypocritical of me if I said Teddy couldn't have his boyfriend," it was still odd to use the word, "spend the night, under those circumstances."

"Lots of parents would, though."

Remus gave a shrug. "I'm not lots of parents."

"And you trust Teddy."

"Mostly," Remus agreed. "He's only eighteen, of course, but yes, mostly." He glanced up at the tree, wanting to change the topic of conversation. "They really did a fine job. Next we'll put presents underneath--oh, blast, I still have several to wrap. A couple of little things for Ted, and the book for Andrew."

"You haven't asked what else I found for Andrew," Sam reminded him. "That needs to be wrapped too."

"What _did_ you get for him?" Remus asked obediently.

"He seemed keen on pop music when we all went to the Screaming Meemies concert, so I picked out albums by several new bands that I thought he might like. If he has them already, he can exchange the discs for something else," said Sam.

"Brilliant," said Remus, rising and offering a hand to Sam. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"I'd not have thought of a book," countered Sam.

"Pfft. A book. We've covered this--books are what I _do_. No big surprises there. Teddy's probably up in his room right now saying, 'I'll bet my dad got you a book for Christmas'."

Sam laughed as they headed into Remus's office. "Somehow I doubt that's what Teddy's doing right now."

Remus rolled his eyes as he pulled out the yet-unwrapped presents from their hiding spot. "Don't remind me. Come here and help me wrap these, won't you?"

Sam did, and they wrapped the albums Sam had chosen, too, and placed all the presents under the tree, standing there with their arms around each other for a long moment. The sun was setting and the room had grown darker, lit only by the glow of the fairy lights.

"So what did you get me for Christmas?" Sam asked softly.

"A book," Remus answered automatically. A grin crept over his face as the predictability of his answer dawned on him.

"Did you?"

Remus laughed. "Well, yes I did, but a few other things, too. But you'll have to wait until the morning to see what else. I didn't set out to get you a book, you know, but--"

"I know, 'books are what you do'. And I love you for it." Sam kissed him just as there was a loud thump from above.

"Oh, god," said Remus, "I don't even want to know what that was."

"Shall we go and investigate?" asked Sam, leading Remus to the foot of the stairs.

"I suppose," replied Remus, "It's coming up on dinnertime, anyway." They started up the stairs. "Slowly," said Remus, "just in case. Boys?" he added, louder.

There were several more muffled thumps. As they reached the top of the stairs, Remus saw that the door to Teddy's room _was_ closed; he must have done it far more quietly than usual.

"Ted?" he called, tapping on the door.

"Just a minute, Dad," said Teddy, and it really _was_ less than a minute before he opened it and stood there, looking not too noticeably dishevelled. "What's up?"

Remus tried not to be too obvious about looking past him to see the state of the bed, which also looked rumpled though still made. Andrew was sitting on the edge of the mattress.

"Have you finished showing Andrew around up here?" Remus asked. "We were thinking it was about time for dinner, but maybe you need to wrap a few things first? Sam and I have finished with all ours, and they're under the tree."

"Excellent." Teddy's eyes brightened. "Um, yeah, I might have something to wrap. Do you?" he asked Andrew, half-turning.

"No, they're wrapped already, but I should put them out, right?" Andrew replied.

"Please do," Remus told him. "Our family tradition is to have everything decorated and the gifts under the tree before dinner tonight, and then after dinner we each unwrap one thing. The rest wait until Christmas morning." He grinned at Teddy. "We started that when Ted was very young and impatient."

"Da-ad," said Teddy, drawing out the syllable in complaint. "You make me sound terrible."

"You were three," Remus said. "I don't think it reflects on you now. In any case, why don't you wrap up whatever you need to finish. Sam and I will stay in the kitchen, and Andrew, you can help Ted or come in with us if there's something you shouldn't see. Oh--I have sausages, but would you rather have those or shall we go fetch some fish and chips? What does everyone think?"

"Fish," said Sam from behind Remus. "You shouldn't have to cook tonight."

"I like fish and chips," said Andrew.

"Yeah, fish," Teddy put in, and Remus nodded.

"Fish and chips it is, then," he said. "Sam and I will walk down the road and get the food while you wrap your presents, Ted. How does that sound?"

"Andrew, too," said Teddy.

"What about me?" Andrew stood and joined Teddy in the doorway. Remus smiled--they did make a handsome couple, Teddy's smaller frame and Andrew's bulkier one, Teddy's bright hair and Andrew's sandy fringe. They were a study in opposites, really, but Remus liked how well they seemed to fit together. He felt that Teddy was protected--even if Andrew was only about Teddy's age and not much more experienced--and that could only be a good thing.

"You'll go with them," Teddy ordered, his face flushed. "I haven't exactly wrapped your present yet."

"Um," said Andrew, glancing at Remus and Sam, "I--okay, yeah, that'll be fine."

"Don't worry," said Sam, "We don't bite." Remus raised his eyebrows, then decided to let it go. Surely Sam hadn't meant anything by it--he wouldn't make werewolf jokes on Christmas, would he?

"Go," said Teddy, nudging Andrew out the door, grinning. Andrew moved into the hallway, looking at his shoes.

"Okay," he said, "I'll see you, Ted."

"You look as though you're walking to your death," said Teddy, starting to close the door. "I promise, you'll be okay. _Really_." He looked at Remus, raising his eyebrows in a gesture that clearly meant _Please, for the love of god, do not embarrass him._ Remus raised his eyebrows back, then smiled his most reassuring smile.

"Let's go, Andrew," he said, putting a hand on the young man's shoulder. "Don't worry--it's only a very short walk to the fish and chips shop."

With coats on, the three of them left the house and headed up the street. It really was only about four minutes' walk, and the pavement was wide enough for them all to walk abreast.

"I know the Quidditch teams stop practising at least a week or two before Christmas," Sam commented, his breath a plume of steam in the frosty air. "Have you been having a good holiday so far?"

Andrew walked a few more yards before answering. "Better since Ted invited me here. Thank you again for having me."

"It's our pleasure," Remus said. "Christmas is a time to spend with people you care about, after all." He realised after he'd said it that he might be making assumptions--but he hadn't said "people you love," which would have been a bigger one.

"Yeah." Andrew stared at the ground.

"Here we are." Remus pointed at the corner ahead, where light shone from the shop window onto the street. He could already smell the frying fish. "Choose whatever you like, Andrew. Ted likes plaice better than cod, and I'm the opposite. And we always get peas and extra chips, but if there's anything else you'd like, just say."

The final order was three large cod and one plaice, a family order of peas, and two extra chips. Sam insisted on paying, and Andrew on carrying the bags back.

"There's a chocolate gateau in the fridge, too," Remus mentioned. "I'm afraid it's several days old though."

"Don't apologise," said Sam, "not as busy as you've been."

He had been holding Remus's hand both there and back, and Andrew kept glancing at the two of them and then looking away again. Remus tried to think of something innocuous to say.

"How long have you been playing for Portree, Andrew?"

"Nearly three years," Andrew replied. "I worked in a shop for a year after I left Hogwarts before I made the reserve team."

That surprised Remus; he'd thought Andrew was about Teddy's age, not four years older.

"I suppose you're hoping to get off the reserves?" Sam asked.

Andrew nodded. "Yeah, but I'm not sure that'll be happening anytime soon--the team's been fantastic for several years now, so really my only hope is if someone gets hopelessly injured, which--I can't wish for that, you know?"

Remus chuckled. "Certainly not." They walked along in silence a moment longer, then Andrew spoke.

"I suppose you're wondering why I'm here instead of with my own family on Christmas." He sounded miserable, and Remus hesitated for a long moment, looking at Sam, before he answered.

"I--well, I won't lie to you, Andrew, I did wonder, but I'm certain you have a very good reason. And it's not one you have to share if you don't want to. We're happy to have you--and I _do_ mean that--whatever the reason. All right?"

Andrew screwed up his face. "All right," he mumbled.

Remus wasn't sure if he'd done the right thing--had Andrew perhaps wanted him to ask?

"But, Andrew," he said as the three of them approached the house, "if you want to talk about anything at all, you know where to find me."

Andrew nodded. "Right. Thanks," he said, and he followed Remus and Sam inside.

Teddy was waiting for them, and he dragged Andrew off as soon as Andrew had set down the food and taken off his coat.

"Probably checking him over to make sure we didn't harass him too much," said Remus as he got out plates and silverware. Sam laughed and took four bottles of beer from the refrigerator, setting one at each place.

"Did you know he was that much older than Teddy?" Sam asked. "And what do you think the business is with his family?" He kept his voice low, for which Remus was grateful, as Teddy and Andrew were only in the living room.

"I didn't," said Remus, "but I'm not sure the age really matters with them--and now, I must admit, my curiosity is definitely piqued when it comes to Andrew's family. I didn't know if he wanted me to ask him what the situation was, just now, or really what it was he wanted." Remus sighed. "Maybe he'll feel comfortable enough to say something about it later, but I didn't want to push."

"Probably wise," agreed Sam.

"Want to go bring them in before the fish gets cold?" Remus asked.

"Sure." Sam left and Remus heard him going along the hallway, calling the boys' names.

Remus put out salt and pepper and a bottle of malt vinegar and sat down just as the rest came into the kitchen.

"Finish all your wrapping?" Remus smiled at Teddy. "Your plaice is the one in the left-hand bag; all the cod is in the other."

"Yeah," said Teddy, reaching for his fish and unwrapping the paper, crumpling it as the fish landed on his plate. "All done and everything's under the tree." He flashed a look sideways at Andrew, one that Remus couldn't interpret.

"We can have a relaxing evening, then," said Sam. "At some point we each open one gift, you said, Remus?"

"A bit later on," said Remus.

"We usually play a game of some sort first," Teddy said. "Exploding Snap or Gobstones or something. But Andrew had an idea for something different, since there's four of us."

"What game were you thinking of, Andrew?" Remus looked at Andrew, who had been eating steadily.

"Um." Andrew put down his fork and bit his lip. "My family used to play charades, not on Christmas Eve necessarily, just in general."

"That sounds like fun," Sam said. "In teams, you and Ted against Remus and me?"

"Or maybe we should go cross-generational, and have _you_ and Ted against Andrew and me," Remus suggested.

Somewhat to his amazement, Teddy supported that idea. "I'd like to team with Sam."

Remus nodded, trying not to let his surprise show on his face. "All right," he said, holding out a hand to Andrew, "you and me, then." He grinned. Andrew hesitated, then grinned back, taking his hand and giving it a firm shake.

"You do realise, Andrew, that my dad is absolute crap at charades?" came Teddy's voice, and Remus shook his head, laughing.

"That's hardly dinner table language," he said, "and besides, when have you ever seen me play charades?" He let go of Andrew's hand and gave Teddy a look of mock-outrage.

Teddy shrugged, shoving a handful of chips in his mouth, a merry smile playing about his eyes. "I've seen you try to _act_ ," he said when he'd chewed and swallowed the chips. "Like when you're feeling something, but trying to hide it? Acting like you're feeling another way? Rubbish actor," he said.

If Teddy hadn't been smiling so guilelessly, Remus might have thought there was a hidden meaning to his words, but he was certain that there wasn't--Teddy was just being Teddy, taking an opportunity to tease. That was fine with Remus.

Sam began laughing. "You know," he said, "Ted's right, Remus. You're definitely a crap actor."

Remus harrumphed and swiped at Sam. "I'll have you all know," he said, looking directly at Andrew, "That I am perfectly capable of holding my own when it comes to a game of charades. Don't you worry, Andrew. You've got the best possible partner." He winked at Andrew, who was looking somewhat discomfited by the whole exchange.

"Yeah? All right," he said, and he went back to eating, his eyes flicking back and forth between Teddy and Remus as they continued their banter.

When they had all finished and cleared away the dinner things, Remus tore two sheets of parchment into strips and passed around quills. "Is this the way your family played?" Remus asked Andrew. He'd nearly said _plays_ , but had stopped himself in time. "Each team writing down things for the other team to act out?"

Andrew nodded. "Yes, and then we take--took turns drawing slips until we ran out. It's--I always liked it, anyway."

"It'll be brilliant," Remus reassured him, glancing at Teddy, who was already scribbling on his slips of parchment. Sam was looking thoughtful, tapping the end of his quill against his chin. Remus pondered briefly, then wrote on one slip, _The Boy Who Lived_. Glancing around the room for inspiration, he put on a second, _The Holly and the Ivy_. _History of Magic_ went on a third, and finally _Time in a Bottle_. Four should be more than enough; he doubted they'd get through sixteen charades in an evening.

"Everyone have theirs?" Teddy asked. He'd gone and brought back two bowls, one for each team to draw from. "Who wants to go first?"

"You can," said Andrew, folding up his slips and dropping them in the bowl with Remus's.

"Sam?"

"I think you should draw first, Ted. Go on," said Sam.

Teddy reached into the bowl and pulled out a slip, unfolding it and reading it. He grinned. "All _right_. Okay, Sam. Ready?"

Sam settled back in his seat to watch Teddy. "Ready when you are."

Teddy held up three fingers, then one finger.

"Three words. First word," said Sam.

Next Teddy put three fingers on his arm, followed by one finger again.

"Three syllables. First syllable," said Sam, and Teddy nodded.

He cocked his head in thought for a minute, then left the room and came back with Remus's scarf. He gave it to Andrew, shook his head, and took it away again, then gave it to Remus and smiled.

"Scarf?" Sam guessed.

Shaking his head, Teddy repeated the action, pointing at Andrew and shaking his head again, and nodding and smiling broadly when he gave the scarf to Remus.

"Hm. Can you give me the next part of the word?" requested Sam.

Teddy put three fingers on his arm, then two, then three.

"Okay, second and third syllables together. Go ahead."

Teddy opened his hands as if he were reading a book.

"Book. Uh, scarf-book," Sam guessed, shaking his head slowly all the time. "Warm woolen winter scarf, and a book, um, Remus buys everyone books for every holiday and birthday--" Remus laughed and gave Sam a pointed look, but Sam took no heed, continuing. "Um, okay, book, textbook, storybook--"

Teddy nodded frantically, pointing at Sam.

"Story?" Sam repeated. Teddy nodded again, then tossed the scarf at Remus, pointing at Remus again.

"It's his scarf--" Teddy had pointed to Sam when he'd said _his_. Sam furrowed his brow. "His--oh, _His-story_ , yeah?"

Teddy beamed and touched his finger to his nose, and Sam grinned. "All right, 'history'. And?"

Teddy held up two fingers, then held his finger and thumb about an inch apart.

"Second word. Little word. And, is, of-- _of_ , all right," said Sam as Teddy indicated that he was correct. "'History of'. History of what?" Teddy pointed at Sam, and Remus grinned.

"History of _me_?" asked Sam. Teddy frowned and shook his head, then made as if to pull his wand from his pocket, but stopped as if he had a better idea. He turned slightly to one side, flung an invisible jacket over his shoulder, and put on a distant, haughty expression, running one hand lightly over his chest.

It took Sam a moment to catch on, but when he did, he roared with laughter. "Oh, my god, Remus, I forgot that you lent this boy _History of Magic_! Well done, Ted!"

Teddy laughed. "I could have done _this_ , but I was afraid you'd think it was cheating." He morphed into a semblance of the young Sam from the album cover, with shaggy black hair and prominent cheekbones, a faint dusting of stubble across his jaw, his eyes dark and distant.

Remus and Sam applauded. "Oh, well _done_ ," said Sam, "if a bit scary. Reminds me how far I've grown away from being cool."

"I think you're pretty cool, still," said Teddy, shrugging and letting the vision of Sam fall away.

Andrew, for his part, was sitting in his chair looking bewildered. "Um, what did I miss here?" he finally asked.

" _History of Magic_ was the title of the first album by the Hobgoblins," Teddy explained, "and Sam was their lead singer."

"Really?" Andrew's eyes grew big. "My mu-, that is, I used to hear that album all the time when I was a kid. I should have recognised you! Especially since you knew so much about music when we all went to that concert!"

"No worries." Sam laughed. "I've spent the last twenty years or so trying _not_ to be recognised. I haven't performed in public since the Hobgoblins broke up, and yet there are still witches who chase me down in the shops."

"But I caught you," said Remus smugly, planting a kiss on Sam's cheek.

"You did indeed." Sam turned his head to brush his lips over Remus's. Teddy coughed.

"All right, all right," said Remus. "Sorry, Ted. And Andrew. Didn't mean to embarrass you."

"It's just... oh, never mind," Teddy said. "Who's next, you or Andrew?"

"I'll go next," Andrew offered. He felt around in the bowl and pulled out a slip, then stood for a moment, chewing his lip uncertainly. "Okay." He stood with his hands on his hips.

"A person," Remus said, and Andrew nodded, quickly indicating that there were two words in the name, and the first word had two syllables. "Go on."

Andrew took his wand and whisked a few strands of tinsel from the tree, settling them on his head in a kind of coronet. He tilted his head and gazed coolly at them all.

"King," guessed Remus. Andrew pointed at him, grinning. "King--Kingsley Shacklebolt!"

Teddy groaned. "I should have known that would be too easy."

"Ha. See, I'm not so bad at this as you thought," Remus teased Teddy, as Andrew sat back down, looking pleased.

"You haven't had to act, yet," said Teddy, teasing back. "Okay, Sam, your turn."

Sam groaned when he read his slip of paper, but he finally managed to get Teddy to guess _The Knights of the Round Table_ after much wild gesturing which, it turned out, was meant to be swordfighting.

" _That_ was swordfighting?" Remus teased. "All that whacking about?" He mimicked Sam's gestures, laughing. "All right, Sam, if you say so. _Swordfighting_. Right."

"Let's see you do better," Sam challenged him, and Remus nodded.

"All right," he said, and he drew a slip from the bowl. "Oh, Teddy, _really_? And don't pretend this wasn't you--I'd recognise that indecipherable penmanship anywhere."

Teddy put on an innocent air. "What? Thought you were ace at charades, Dad."

"All right," Remus said, accepting the challenge, "I am--you'll see."

It took him quite some time to act out _Pride of Portree_ \--he reduced Teddy and Sam to laughing so hard that they cried--but finally Andrew guessed it, leaping from his chair and shouting the answer.

"Right!" Remus shouted, and he gave Andrew a hug around his shoulders. Andrew half-hugged him back, which Remus thought was definitely a step in the right direction.

"Presents now?" Teddy asked after they'd played a second round.

"Absolutely," said Remus, and the four of them trooped into the living room, settling down around the tree. There were presents heaped all around it--far more than there had been for many Christmasses previous to this one. Remus smiled at yet another sign of his happy little makeshift family.

"So, do we choose which present we want to open, or does someone else do the choosing for us?" asked Sam. Remus started to answer until he noticed that Sam had directed the question at Teddy.

"I usually choose for myself," Teddy replied, "but, I don't know, maybe we could do it differently since there's more of us this year."

"Shall we do a round robin, go around in a circle and each person choose for the next?" Remus suggested.

"That sounds like a good plan," agreed Sam.

Remus thought quickly. "Andrew, why don't you choose for Ted, he can choose for Sam, who'll choose for me, and I'll choose for you." That ought to work out all right; everyone would have the opportunity to pick out a gift that he knew the contents of, if he wanted.

"Okay." Andrew shoved his hair back and knelt down by the tree, looking over the piled-up packages. He touched several of them consideringly before pulling out one done up in silver paper. "Looks like this one's from your dad."

 _Oh._ Remus flushed slightly, recognising it. Sam caught Remus's expression and raised his eyebrows in question, and Remus shook his head.

Teddy took the box and shook it. "Looks kind of like a shirt box, but too square, and it's too noisy." He pulled off the red bow and then tore the paper away. When he lifted the lid and looked inside, he snickered. "A calendar... but wow, Dad, that's quite a calendar for you to give me."

"I thought you might appreciate it," said Remus, still pink.

Teddy pulled it out and showed it to Andrew and Sam. "Quidditch players... without their robes. Just some strategic, um, equipment." It was all wizards, too, and they were quite flirtatious in their dishabille. "Where'd you find it?"

"The bookshop," Remus said. "They usually sell out right away; this year I made sure to grab one."

"Are they real Quidditch players?" Sam asked.

"Yes," said Teddy, flipping through. "Oh my _god_."

Andrew had turned scarlet when he saw the calendar.

"You're _September_ ," Teddy said wonderingly, turning to him.

"Really?" Remus was astonished. He'd bought the calendar as soon as it arrived in the shop, and hadn't actually looked at it very carefully, just shoving it into a box and then wrapping it without looking again. "Andrew, I'm sorry if I've embarrassed you."

"No," Andrew mumbled, his face averted. "I mean, I did the photo shoot, I knew people would see it."

Teddy leaned over to him and said in what was meant to be a whisper, but which Remus heard anyway, "You look really hot, you know."

Remus tried not to let himself wonder too much what Andrew's photo looked like--if he eventually got a chance to see it, well, he'd take it gladly, but he restrained himself from reaching for the calendar. Andrew _was_ terribly good-looking, and Remus would bet he was hiding a well-muscled chest under the woolly jumper he was wearing.

He coughed. "Shall we, um, move on?"

Andrew said nothing, but Teddy nodded his head. "I think--yes. Thank you for the calendar, Dad. I seriously love it."

Remus nodded as Teddy moved to the stack of presents. "Sam, Sam," he said softly. "Oh--here. From me. Um, and it's also from Andrew."

"You don't have to say--" muttered Andrew, but Teddy leaned over and whispered something in Andrew's ear that shut him up and made his cheeks flush pink again. Remus could have sworn he heard the word _September_.

"From me and Andrew," Teddy repeated.

"Thank you, boys," said Sam, grinning. He held the small box up to his ear and rattled it. "Hmm--not heavy enough to be gold bricks. A nice rattle, though. Well, I suppose there's one way to find out..." He tore at the wrapping, then stared down into the box. "Is this what I think it is?"

Teddy beamed, clearly pleased with himself. "I found it in a junk shop," he said. "Um, maybe more properly an _antique store_ , but it had mostly junk in it, and I didn't think you'd appreciate being called an antique. So." He didn't appear to realise that Sam might also object to being called junk; but in any case, the intention was clear.

Sam pulled a figure from the box about five inches high, set it on his palm, and showed it to Remus. Remus furrowed his brow, then plucked the little figure from Sam's palm.

"Is that-- _you_?" he asked, squinting.

"Yeah," Sam laughed, "Me, several years and more than several pounds ago. I remember they made these figurines for the teenaged witches to set on their bureaus and dream over--I've never actually seen one, though." He turned his attention back to Teddy. "That's a fantastic gift, Ted--you're a thoughtful young man, do you know that?"

Teddy smiled and ducked his head. "Well, I just sort of happened upon it one day. But, um, you're welcome."

Sam stood up and squeezed Teddy's shoulder on his way over to the tree to pick out a gift for Remus to open. "Hm." He squinted at the tags on several packages, then looked at Remus. "I can't decide whether to go with something that I know, or cast caution to the wind and choose one from someone else."

"Goodness, I don't care," said Remus, laughing a little. "The rest will be opened tomorrow, after all."

"Oh, I suppose I'll give you one from me, then." Sam plucked out a large box with holly paper on it and passed it to Remus, then sat down next to him again.

"It's rather light." Remus hefted it.

Sam grinned. "Open it."

Remus did. Inside was a second box, this one in paper printed with gingerbread men. Upon opening that one, there was a third, with Christmas trees. Remus raised an eyebrow at Sam. "Just how many boxes are there, here? Is there anything in the centre at all?"

"You'll see."

"Keep going, Dad," said Teddy, who had sat down at Andrew's feet and was holding his hand.

Rolling his eyes, Remus opened the third box, then a fourth wrapped in candy-cane striped paper. The fifth box, which was only a few inches across, had plain gold foil. "Am I nearly to the end?" asked Remus plaintively, tearing at it. "They can't possibly get much smaller."

This one proved to be the final box. Inside was a slip of parchment with Sam's writing on it. _IOU one visit to a "toy" shop. You to choose the toy, and both of us get to play with it._ Remus gave Sam a big smile, squeezing his hand. "Thank you, Sam. What a lovely idea."

"What is it?" Teddy demanded.

"Sam gave me an IOU," said Remus. "I don't think you need to know the details, do you?"

Teddy looked as if he were going to say he did, but he let out a breath when Andrew touched his neck. "I suppose not," he admitted. "All right, last one, you have to choose for Andrew now."

Remus nodded and rose, stretching. He chose a small box wrapped in plain brown paper with Andrew's name on it that must have been from Teddy, though the writing on the paper didn't look like Teddy's at all. Remus knew it wasn't from him or Sam, though, and perhaps it had been wrapped by a shop that wrote the name as well.

"Here you are," he said, handing the box to Andrew. Andrew studied it, then looked up, first at Remus, then at Teddy.

"Is this a joke?" he asked.

Remus shook his head. "I'm not sure what you mean--it was under the tree, and it had your name on it."

"I can explain," said Teddy. "The other day, when we were at your flat and you were taking ages in the bathroom--sorry--this little package arrived by owl post. It looked like it might be a Christmas present, so I thought I'd just stick it in my pocket and have it here under the tree for you on Christmas as a surprise. But maybe by the look on your face, um--maybe I should've just given it to you on the day it arrived. I'm sorry. What is it?"

Andrew stared at the package and let out a long breath. "It's from my sisters," he said finally. "That's my sister Gemma's handwriting, anyway. I don't know if I should open it."

Remus thought of about a thousand questions he wanted to ask, but he remained silent, just glanced at Sam, who looked as intrigued as Remus felt.

"Open it," said Teddy, standing and moving behind Andrew's chair to put a hand on his shoulder.

Andrew nodded and took a deep breath, then began to tear at the wrapping. Inside was a gaily-wrapped present with a little card attached, which Andrew read.

"It's from both my sisters," he said quietly, not to anyone in particular, and he opened the present. Inside was a flat box, and from the box, Andrew lifted a tarnished silver star on a faded green ribbon.

"It's my favourite Christmas ornament," he breathed. "They must have taken it out when my mum and dad weren't looking. It has my name on it." He handed it to Teddy, who touched it reverently, then handed it back to him.

"Why don't you put it on the tree, Andrew?" Remus suggested gently.

Andrew nodded. He looked the tree over, then asked Teddy to levitate him up and hung it from one of the high branches near the top. "There," he said. "Okay, you can bring me down."

Teddy lowered Andrew and hugged him, whispering something in his ear that made Andrew both smile and raise his hand to rub at his eyes.

"I think that's probably a good note to end the evening on," said Remus. "Ted, make sure the lights are all out before you go up to bed?"

"I will," said Teddy. "We'll be up in a bit."

"Don't stay up too late or you'll sleep through breakfast," Remus warned him, with a smile to show he wasn't really serious. "Goodnight, boys."

"Goodnight."

Sam slipped an arm around Remus's waist as they climbed the stairs. It wasn't until they were in Remus's room with the door closed that he said, "Sounds like maybe Andrew's parents had the same sort of reaction as my mother to their son telling them he's gay."

"That seems likely," Remus agreed. "What a shame. At least his sisters seem to be making an effort... although who knows if they know what's going on."

"They probably do." Sam grunted as he bent down to pull off his socks. "Kids almost always know more than their parents want to admit. Which is why such things as Silencing Spells were invented."

"Are you propositioning me?" Remus asked.

"How'd you ever guess?" Sam grinned and pulled out his wand to cast the spell. "What better way to end a lovely Christmas Eve?"

"I can't think of one." Remus gave Sam a hug. "Amazing, really. Six months ago I wouldn't have imagined that I'd be so lucky as to have all this... I know we were already seeing each other, but I didn't know how serious you were. And I certainly didn't have a clue that Ted would be with someone, unless he and Victoire were back together." Which reminded Remus that he needed to mention to Teddy that Harry was assuming Teddy's Boxing Day guest was a girl. Not that Harry would be knowingly rude--he'd accepted Remus's sexuality, after all--but it was bound to be a surprise.

"I'm glad we were both ready to be serious," said Sam, kissing Remus's throat. "Happy Christmas, Remus. I love you."

"And you know I love you," Remus replied, tipping his head back a little to give Sam better access to the tender skin of his neck and throat.

"Are you looking forward to our visit to the toy shop?" asked Sam, stepping back so he could finish undressing.

" _Very_ much," replied Remus, grinning and taking off his clothes. "That was a real surprise, you know."

"I'd hoped it would be," said Sam. "I nearly died when Teddy asked what the present was."

Remus chuckled, remembering his own visit with Teddy to the "toy shop" and realising as he did so that he didn't have the pang of guilt that usually accompanied such memories of Teddy.

"Yes, well," said Remus, crawling onto the bed, "did you see Teddy's face when he saw September on that Quidditch calendar?"

Sam raised his eyebrows and joined Remus on the bed, running his hand up Remus's bare thigh. "Please tell me I'm not the only old pervert who's dying to see September's page," he said.

"You're not," Remus admitted. "I think I'm going to have to sneak a peek when the boys are still in bed in the morning--unless they bring it upstairs with them for safekeeping, I suppose."

"Safekeeping," said Sam, kissing Remus's neck once again, "or inspiration."

Remus smacked him lightly on the shoulder and allowed himself to be pressed to the bed. "You're terrible," he said, but he didn't really mean it--after all, Teddy and Andrew were probably intending to do the same thing he and Sam were doing right now, and Remus knew it.

Conversation fell off as their mouths met, and Remus pulled Sam on top of him so that their bodies were aligned. There was no need to rush their lovemaking, and Remus moved his hands languidly over Sam's skin, feeling every bump and scar and hair.

"Do you want me inside you?" Sam whispered in Remus's ear. "I want to be inside you, Remus."

Remus nodded and kissed Sam's shoulder. "I do want you inside me," he said, "very much."

Sam took his time in preparing Remus, stopping often to lavish kisses on his scarred torso, his legs, his feet, as Remus sighed and groaned and encouraged him on. Finally Sam was ready, his cock nudging at Remus's entrance, Remus's legs gripping high on Sam's back.

"Someday I'm not going to be able to manage this," Remus gasped as Sam began to move into him.

"What?" Sam stopped, concerned.

"This position," Remus clarified. "Not as young and flexible as I used to be."

"Oh. Well, we'll just have to experiment with some others," Sam said, and then his mouth found Remus's as his prick slid home.

Remus held him tightly, just there, enjoying the feel of Sam filling him, his own cock pressed between their warm bellies. He kissed Sam as passionately as he knew how, and when he had to stop to take a deeper breath, he said again, "I love you," the words inadequate, but there were no others. Sam smiled and kissed Remus again, beginning to rock back and forth, needing to adjust his stroke only slightly before Remus indicated that he'd found the sweet spot, and then thrusting, slow and tender, in time with their kisses.

It was almost hypnotic, to feel so close, so loved and loving, and Remus's orgasm crept up on him unexpectedly, the heat of it splashing between them. Sam gave a groan; he pulled Remus closer still and thrust harder, once, twice, then shuddered and came as well.

They lay together in contentment for perhaps a quarter of an hour, and only the thought of how uncomfortable it would be in the morning if they didn't clean up a bit brought Remus to suggest as much to Sam. Quickly they did so, and went back to bed, Sam spooning up behind Remus, Remus holding Sam's hand pressed to his heart. He could remember no better Christmas Eve in his life.  



	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teddy enjoys Christmas with Andrew, Remus, and Sam, and persuades Andrew to go to Harry's traditional Boxing Day party, despite Andrew's misgivings.

Teddy woke, startled. Then he relaxed and turned sleepily to Andrew, nuzzling against him. "Happy Christmas, Andrew." Though it felt odd to have someone else sharing his childhood bed, he supposed he'd grow used to it eventually.

"Happy Christmas to you, too." Andrew rubbed his cheek against Teddy's; Teddy knew he didn't like to be kissed until he'd had a chance to clean his teeth. "Think I should shower and shave and dress before we go down for breakfast?"

"If you want." Teddy ran a hand along Andrew's side, down to his pyjama-clad hip. "My dad won't care, and I don't expect Sam would either. I usually don't bother until after breakfast and presents."

Andrew's expression was uncomfortable. "Yeah, I never do at home, but this is different, being a guest at your dad's."

"Tell you what, why don't you shave, maybe, but I'll lend you a dressing gown? If we're both still in pyjamas, it'll feel more like family," said Teddy firmly. He really wanted Andrew to be able to relax... they'd certainly both been quite relaxed last night, after his dad and Sam had gone upstairs and he'd poured them each a whisky, and they'd gone month by month through the calendar Remus had given Andrew, giving marks to each Quidditch player on his appearance--except for Andrew himself, since Teddy refused to say that Andrew was anything less than perfect. Now he smiled at Andrew. "And that's what Christmas is about, yeah? Since you can't be with your own family, I want you as part of mine."

Maybe mentioning Andrew's family wasn't the most brilliant thing Teddy could have done. Andrew had started to sit up, but he flopped back down on the bed again at the mention of the word.

"You know, I'd finally managed to stop thinking about them for five seconds," he growled. "Thanks a lot, Ted."

Teddy frowned and sat up, crossing his legs and grabbing his ankles with his hands. He rocked back and forth a little. "I'm sorry," he said, "I really am. But you don't get to be a grumpy bastard on Christmas." He hunched forward and dropped a kiss on Andrew's stubbled cheek. "Come on. Let's get up and go have some breakfast. My dad's Christmas morning breakfast is one of the best meals of the year. It'll make you feel better, I promise."

Andrew managed a smile up at Teddy. "Yeah, all right," he said, "I suppose there's no good can come of lying about in bed and being stupid and miserable."

Teddy nodded. "Now you're getting it."

"Of course," said Andrew, still not sitting up, "We _could_ just lie about in bed and get hard and sweaty instead." He waggled his eyebrows at Teddy and stroked the coverlet in the vicinity of his cock.

"Cheeky," said Teddy, and he bounced upon Andrew, planting a kiss on Andrew's mouth whether Andrew liked it or not. "You'll have to take care of that yourself, or my dad'll get suspicious if he hears us moving around up here for too long without coming down for breakfast."

Andrew grinned. "I suppose you're right," he said.

"Besides," Teddy continued, "I don't think those sorts of things are actually _allowed_ on Christmas." He put on his most serious expression, and Andrew laughed.

"Then what were those noises I heard coming from your dad's room last night?" he asked. "I think someone cast a Silencing spell a little too carelessly, don't you?"

Teddy stuck his fingers in his ears and sang, pretending not to listen to Andrew, and pretending that the noises they'd heard hadn't turned him on a little. Maybe more than a little.

"Come on," he said, grabbing Andrew's hand. "Shave if you must, clean your teeth, and there's an extra dressing gown somewhere around here I'll lend you. Meet me downstairs in, oh, ten minutes. It's _Christmas_!"

He found his old dressing gown in the back of the wardrobe. The flannel was a little threadbare, and it would be short in the sleeve on Andrew, but it would do. He left it on his bed and called through the bathroom door to tell Andrew where it was, then bounded downstairs.

"Happy Christmas!" he called out as he went into the living room and found his father and Sam already there, sitting with cups of tea. As he'd told Andrew, they were still in pyjamas and dressing gowns as well, and it all felt so homely and familiar--even with Sam--that Teddy went over and hugged them both.

"Tea's in the kitchen," Remus said, ruffling Teddy's hair. "Happy Christmas. Where's Andrew?"

"He'll be right down," Teddy answered. "I'll get a cup for him too."

"So, what's the order of events?" Teddy heard Sam ask as he went to fetch tea. Teddy knew Remus would explain that Teddy was the gift-distributor, and that these days they didn't rush through the opening of them; even with just Teddy and Remus, it usually took well over an hour to finish. Then they'd have breakfast--Remus generally prepared a strata or something of that sort in advance, which was easy to pop in the oven and let bake unattended, but Teddy wasn't sure if his father had had time to do so this year. He didn't see anything in the fridge when he opened it for the milk.

Carrying the two mugs, he returned to the living room and sat by the tree, which looked gorgeous with the white fairy lights all on. Teddy smiled to himself when he saw Andrew's star near the top.

Andrew paused in the doorway when he came downstairs, and Teddy said, "Come on, I have tea for you. Do you want to sit there," he pointed at the chair Andrew had sat in the night before, "or here with me?"

"By you." Andrew gave Remus and Sam a tentative smile as he sat down. "Happy Christmas, everyone."

"Happy Christmas, Andrew," said Sam and Remus together.

Remus added, "All right, Ted, go on and choose the first one."

Teddy looked over the heaps of presents, debating whether he should start with Andrew, who must still be feeling a little out of place, or perhaps with Sam, as a sort of welcome-to-the-family gesture. He settled, instead, on a gift for his father, and he brought it to Remus and placed a kiss on his cheek.

"Happy Christmas, Dad," he said, giving Remus his most genuine smile and starting to walk back to his seat. Remus grabbed his wrist, though, and pulled him back down for a hug.

"Happy Christmas, Teddy," Remus murmured back. They both held on a little too long, and Teddy extricated himself from the hug with a final squeeze.

The gift-giving passed by too quickly for Teddy's taste, even with a break in the middle so that Remus could turn on the oven to begin baking the strata he'd put in there before Teddy had come downstairs. There would be cinnamon buns, too, if history repeated itself, and oranges to peel, and pots and pots of tea.

After breakfast, which was, indeed, comprised of all of Teddy's favourite Christmas morning delicacies, Remus announced that he, for one, was in need of a shower and a shave, and Sam quickly said that he'd join him.

"Aw, you didn't have to say that in front of us," Teddy complained, wrinkling his nose.

"Actually, Sam," said Remus, "why don't you go ahead upstairs and get started. I'll be up in just a few minutes." Sam gave Remus a questioning look, but Remus waved him up the stairs, and he went.

Remus turned to Teddy and Andrew. "What's up, Dad?" Teddy asked.

"Well, boys," said Remus, "I had originally thought I'd talk to just Ted about this, but Andrew, I think you should be in on this conversation as well." He got up and poured himself some more tea, and Teddy waited, jiggling his leg under the table. This didn't sound like it was going to be a conversation he wanted to have.

"I saw Harry yesterday," said Remus, as he sat back down across from Teddy and Andrew. "He's looking forward to the Boxing Day party, as always. Were you two planning on attending?"

Teddy nodded, then glanced at Andrew. "Well--we'd only vaguely discussed it, but, yeah, I think so. Why?"

"Well, I mentioned that I thought you might be bringing a guest, and Harry first assumed it would be Victoire, and when I said no, he said he'd look forward to meeting the lucky girl. I was working, and didn't have time for a long conversation with the holiday rush, and besides it seemed as if it should be your call about telling people what's going on with you. The point being, you need to be prepared for your godfather, and probably the rest of the family, having made certain assumptions that aren't necessarily true." Remus gave a helpless sort of shrug. "I suppose on the positive side, Harry's always been quite supportive of me, and of Charlie Weasley for that matter."

It was no news to Teddy that "Uncle" Charlie was gay, but it was reassuring to know that his godfather was apparently accepting of that, as well as of Remus.

"So you don't think it'll be a problem, bringing Andrew." Teddy made it a statement, rather than a question.

"No, I don't--Sam's going with me, of course--but I did want to make certain you were aware that it might come as a bit of a surprise to some of the other guests if you make it obvious that you're a couple, not just platonic friends," said Remus.

Teddy was going to say that he was fine with it, but then he looked again at Andrew, who appeared worried. "We'll talk it over," he said instead.

"Okay, that sounds good. I'll leave you two alone, then, and hop in the shower. Sam's probably finished by now," Remus teased gently, and left the kitchen.

Andrew sighed. "I guess it never gets easier, does it?"

"We don't have to go tomorrow; well, _you_ don't. I do kind of have to, Harry's my godfather," said Teddy. "I'd like it if you came too, but I can understand if you're not up for it. It's bound to be awkward, but I _did_ write to Victoire, I told you that, she's the one who really would matter and she seemed okay with the whole thing. Anyhow. I don't want to push you. You've had a rough enough holiday already."

Despite his words, Teddy desperately hoped that Andrew would be willing. For one thing, it would be a good way simply to show everyone that Ted Lupin was not as straight as they had all assumed... and more importantly, he wanted Harry and Victoire and some of his other extended "family" to meet Andrew, to get to know him and hopefully like him just as Teddy did.

Andrew sighed heavily. "I don't know, Ted. It sounds like there'll be a lot of people there."

"Well, yeah, but it's not like it's going to be everyone from your year in school and all the Portree players besides. It's going to be a lot of people you don't know, and where's the harm in letting people you've never met before know how you are?" _I'm the one who's going to have to answer questions and deal with strange looks_ , he wanted to say, but he kept his mouth shut. Andrew seemed to be hovering on the brink of a decision, and Teddy didn't want to mess that up.

Andrew opened his mouth as if to say something, then shut it again.

"My dad and Sam are going to be there, too, and Charlie--he's Victoire's uncle, and I've known him since I was a baby--he's probably the toughest bloke you could want to meet, works with _dragons_ , has got _tattoos_ all over him, and if _he_ can be queer around his family, then so can we, right?"

Andrew moved his head in a way that wasn't quite a nod and wasn't quite a no.

"Just--think on it, all right? Will you? You'll have until tomorrow to decide, but if you want to let me know before that, well, that'd be all right." Teddy paused, unsure whether a display of emotion would be out of place at the moment, then decided to go for it, anyway. He took one of Andrew's hands in both of his. "Listen, Andrew. I really, really like you, and I know my dad likes you a lot, too, and Sam does, and I know this probably seems like we're rushing things, but the fact is that we _aren't_ , we rushed into things _before_ and this is completely different, you know? So, it's your decision, of course it is, but, god dammit, I want you to go. It's a bit pathetic, maybe, but it almost feels like--like it won't be right without you there, after you were here for Christmas. It'd be a disappointment if you didn't go." He paused for breath. "That's all. I just wanted to say that."

Andrew raised one hand to his mouth and looked as if he were trying to stifle a smile.

"What?" Teddy asked, smiling himself.

"I think that was the most words I've ever heard come out of your mouth at once," Andrew said, laughing a little.

Teddy threw up his hands, but he was laughing, too.

"You're one to talk," he said, "You're the _expert_ at short sentences and single-word answers and unexplainable silences." He hurried to make his sentence sound less aggressive. "And that's okay, because, well, I'm liking getting to know you. And--and I want my, my, family to get to know you, too."

"I thought you said you weren't going to push me," said Andrew, and from the look on his face, it seemed he immediately wished he hadn't said it.

"I did. And I won't, but I'm not going to lie, either. You should know that I _do_ want you there, but if you really don't want to go, then I'll deal with that." Teddy took a deep breath and took Andrew's hands once more. "I'm not going to walk out on you again."

Andrew's expression crumpled, as if he might be about to cry, but he bit his lip and nodded, blinking hard. "Okay."

"Okay, you know I won't leave?"

"No, I mean okay, I'll go to this party with you tomorrow." Andrew held on to Teddy's hands hard.

Teddy almost wanted to say _I love you_ , but he knew he wasn't quite ready for that, and Andrew probably wasn't ready to hear it, either. _Slow_ , he reminded himself. _If it's real, and worthwhile, there's no harm in taking things slow._ "Thanks," he said softly instead, and pulled Andrew to him in a hug.

A cough from the doorway reminded him that there were other people around.

"Your dad's out of the shower, if you boys want to take a turn," Sam said with a wink.

Teddy saw Andrew turn pink, and knew he was blushing himself at Sam's implication. "Um, okay, yeah. Tell my dad that we'll help him with stuff for dinner later? I think we should take a walk to burn off some of that enormous breakfast first."

"I'll tell him." Sam grinned. "Take your time."

" _Do_ you want to shower together?" Teddy asked Andrew in an undertone when they were back in his bedroom. It wasn't as if they hadn't done some fairly erotic things together the previous night, after all.

Andrew thought about it. "I'm fine with sharing the shower, but um, maybe not doing anything much. I mean, your dad uses the same one, right? It would feel odd to me. Disrespectful, somehow. I know that probably sounds stupid."

"No, I can understand that." Teddy stopped himself from saying that he'd probably feel weird making out in Andrew's parents' shower... that didn't seem like something ever likely to happen, as things were going.

As they walked into the bathroom together, Teddy couldn't stop himself from casting a surreptitious glance over his shoulder. He knew his dad probably wasn't watching them--and even if he did happen to see them, well, it had practically been suggested to them by Sam, anyway. But a tiny petal of guilt still unfurled inside him.

He ignored it, though, closing the door behind them and grinning at Andrew. "So," he said, "I guess--do you want to get in first, or--?"

Andrew seemed to consider this. "Why don't you get in first, actually," he finally said, "because then you'll be out first, and I'd feel weird walking around the house while you're in the shower."

Teddy thought this was fair, and he'd only been in the shower for a minute or two, and was just starting to soap up, when Andrew's face appeared around the side of the curtain.

"Can I come in now?" he asked, and Teddy nodded, reaching out the hand that wasn't holding the soap to help Andrew into the tub.

They embraced, Teddy's slippery-warm skin against Andrew's dry body, and just stood there with their arms around each other for a long time. Andrew started rubbing Teddy's back, and Teddy felt his prick twitch.

"Oh--" he said, moving away, "Maybe we'd better not, um." He chanced a peek downward; his cock wasn't noticeably hard.

Andrew stepped closer and captured Teddy's mouth in a kiss.

"I thought you said you didn't want to do this in the shower," Teddy said when he'd broken the kiss.

"Nah," said Andrew, "I don't. But I kind of can't help myself when you're here, and naked, and we're in a tight little space together, you know?" he grinned, and Teddy found himself grinning back.

"Turn around," he said, and Andrew gave him a funny look.

Teddy gave a melodramatic sigh. "I'm not going to _bugger_ you," he said, "I'm going to wash your _hair_!"

He'd never washed anyone's hair but his own before, but Teddy found it an enjoyable, even slightly erotic, experience--and when Andrew did it to him in return, Teddy closed his eyes and sighed and drifted away in pure bliss.

They soaped each other up and helped each other rinse off, and soon they were both out of the shower at the same time, despite Andrew's plan, warm and glowing and both looking quite pleased with themselves.

"That was a good idea," said Andrew.

"Yeah, but I don't know that I'll tell Sam so."

"Or your dad." Andrew grinned.

Teddy had an instant's image of his father and Sam together in the shower, and then one of his father and _himself_ , and shook his head slightly to clear it. "Right," he agreed. He wrapped his towel around his waist to go down the hall to his bedroom, since they hadn't brought any fresh clothes in with them. "Come on, let's get dressed."

In the bedroom, though, with the door shut behind them, Teddy let his towel fall and grabbed Andrew in a hug, toppling them both onto the unmade bed. "We may not be in a tight little space, but..." he said, and rubbed against Andrew, just enjoying the sheer tactile sensation.

Andrew cooperated enthusiastically, draping his arms and legs around and over Teddy and holding him tight in a tangle of limbs. "Mm. Don't you think they'll notice if we take a long time to get back downstairs, though?"

"Nah. Well, maybe, but I don't care. And we don't have to take a long time--we can save that for tonight." Teddy gave Andrew a mischievous smile. "Unless you object to twice in one day?"

With a shake of his head, Andrew ran his hands over Teddy's arse, kneading it, a couple of fingers sliding to brush the backs of Teddy's bollocks. Teddy hummed with pleasure and started to kiss Andrew, his lips, his jaw, his throat.

"Feels so good to be with you," he murmured against Andrew's skin. "I'm really glad you're here."

"Me, too." Andrew was touching Teddy more assertively now, flirting with the tight pucker of his arsehole, something they hadn't done since they'd gotten back together after their visit to Charon. Andrew's cock was hard, pulsing against Teddy's stomach, leaving a smear of moisture from the tip. "I, um... can I kiss you _there_?" he asked, wriggling his fingertip so that there could be no mistake what he meant.

Teddy's heart skipped. "Are you sure?" For all his vows to himself to take things more slowly this time, he was aware that he'd been pushing Andrew a bit, to come for Christmas, to go to the Boxing Day party, to shower together.

"Unless you don't want me to," Andrew breathed, and Teddy shook his head.

"No, I--I'd like that," he said, and Andrew smiled and began kissing his way down Teddy's body.

"Good," he said against Teddy's skin, and Teddy lay back across the bed, stretching, giving himself over to bliss and sensation.

Andrew prodded at Teddy's knees, and Teddy drew them up without the need for any further prompting, holding his legs with his hands and presenting Andrew with what he knew must be an unobstructed view of his arsehole.

When Andrew's tongue swiped across it with no warning, Teddy jerked.

"Don't you want a cleansing spell?" he gasped.

"Nah," said Andrew, kissing his thigh, "You're clean from the shower, aren't you?"

Teddy privately thought that he would have done an _extra_ good job cleaning himself down there if he'd known that _this_ was going to be happening, but he considered it, and he acquiesced.

"All right," he said, and he tensed in anticipation. Yes, he was clean from the shower, but he was still a bit nervous, having never done this without cleansing spells before. He wondered briefly how the Muggles managed it.

But at the next swipe of Andrew's tongue against his puckered hole, all worries about cleanliness flew out of Teddy's head. It felt _brilliant_ , and he sighed out a happy breath.

Andrew swirled his tongue, then, zeroing in on Teddy's entrance, and Teddy whimpered and pulled his legs further apart and up, wanting to expose himself completely to Andrew, to open himself for Andrew's probing tongue.

He wanted badly to touch himself, but he didn't want to let go of his legs, lest Andrew's way be impeded. He knew that this was silly, but the feeling of exposure, of openness, was so blissful that he wanted it to last just a minute longer. As Andrew's tongue slithered into him, teasing the muscle to relax, he gasped out, "God, _Andrew_ ," and felt Andrew chuckle against him, setting up vibrations in the sensitive flesh.

It felt so good, Teddy couldn't stand to wait. He hung on to his left leg, but let go of the right so that he could take his straining cock in hand. He whispered Andrew's name over and over as his fist flew up and down, the heat in his belly travelling through his bollocks and prick, doubled by the sensations in his arse.

"Gonna--gonna--come," he choked out, and felt Andrew's mouth seal onto him and _suck_. As if it were his cock being sucked, Teddy spent in an instant, the warm splatters of semen coating his fingers and falling onto his skin, into his navel. He shuddered and writhed as Andrew kept on for another minute or two, until at last the quivers of orgasm stopped.

Boneless in the aftermath, Teddy almost didn't realise that Andrew had moved until Andrew's lips were against his own, coaxing a kiss from him. He couldn't taste much except sex, to his relief, and when the kiss stopped, he asked, "Do you want me to do that to you, too?"

"No, just suck me." Andrew looked faintly embarrassed. "Maybe put a finger or two in?"

"Of course, whatever you want," Teddy agreed. He would have liked to curl up and sleep for a little, but after the way Andrew had made him feel, he couldn't not reciprocate in any way Andrew asked for. Unless he'd asked Teddy to fuck him; Teddy was definitely not quite ready for that yet, not with Andrew. He wanted it to be perfect--or as close as possible--the first time with Andrew, and since Remus had promised they would finish the lessons, Teddy would wait until after he had learned from someone who knew what he was doing.

He found his wand on the night stand and cast both a silencing charm, which they'd neglected, and the lubrication spell before pressing Andrew back against the pillows and smiling at him. "Ready?"

Andrew smiled back. "Whenever you are."

Teddy started at Andrew's neck, licking and nipping and sucking his way downward, his hands roaming Andrew's torso both ahead of and behind his mouth. He scraped his teeth over Andrew's nipples, eliciting pleased moans, but carried on. They had more or less agreed not to take _too_ long this time, after all.

He took Andrew in his mouth and began sucking him off, not taking too much time to tease around the head, but getting straight to work. He fondled Andrew's bollocks with the hand that wasn't wrapped around Andrew's shaft, tracing the bumpy seam in the centre with a fingernail, then dropping softer touches on them.

He worked his way down, then, to Andrew's slicked hole, and swirled one finger around the entrance. When finally he dipped it inside, Andrew let out a great groan, and Teddy was glad he'd remembered the silencing charm.

Andrew's cock was heavy against his tongue, and Andrew's hole clenched at the finger that Teddy had worked a little farther inside. When he added a second finger and began to move them both together in Andrew's arse, Andrew shuddered and a stream of curse words began to pour from his mouth.

"Fuck, Ted, fuck, gonna come, don't let me, don't make me come yet, fuck, _fuck_!"

Teddy didn't let up, but sucked harder at Andrew's cock, hollowing his cheeks and steeling himself in anticipation of Andrew's orgasm. He worked his fingers even further inside Andrew's hole, crooking them at what he thought was just the right angle to hit Andrew's prostate--and apparently it was, because Andrew let loose another string of expletives, bucked his hips, and poured himself into Teddy's mouth.

Andrew's come was slightly bitter, but overall, Teddy found he could manage the taste. It was the sheer _volume_ of it that was overwhelming, and Teddy gagged a little and opened his mouth to let the sticky fluid dribble back down over Andrew's cock. He surreptitiously wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then crawled back up to Andrew and gave him a kiss on the mouth, as Andrew had done after he'd tasted Teddy.

Andrew kissed him deeply, his tongue exploring Teddy's mouth, and Teddy shivered at how very, very dirty this all was. He shouldn't be enjoying feeding Andrew the taste of his own release, but that fact was that he _did_.

"Wow," gasped Andrew, breaking the kiss, "That was... incredible."

Teddy nodded. That was definitely one word for it.

"We should get dressed now," he whispered. He dropped a kiss on Andrew's bare shoulder, his body protesting that it only wanted to lie naked in bed for the rest of the afternoon.

"Mm. Almost need another shower, after _that_." Andrew gave him a sleepily flirtatious glance. "And a nap."

"It would probably sound odd if we took another shower right away," Teddy pointed out. "But we could maybe nap after a walk--a little fresh air would be good--and helping my dad get some of the food ready."

Andrew stuck out his lip in a pout that it took Teddy a second to recognise as pretence. "Oh, all right." He reached for his discarded towel and wiped himself off. "Where'd you put my little suitcase?"

They shared one last deep kiss after dressing and before opening the door to go back downstairs. Remus and Sam were sitting in front of the tree again, having some more of the spiced cider that Sam made so well.

"Hey Dad?"

"What's up, Ted?" Remus was leaning against Sam's shoulder. They looked good together, comfortable and happy and everything that Teddy wanted. He was glad for his father, but a little envious too, and had to remind himself that he hadn't known Andrew nearly as long as Remus had known Sam.

"We were going to take a walk for a bit, work up an appetite for dinner. Then do you need some help with the meal?"

"I'd be happy to have you help out," said Remus. "Especially since Andrew apparently knows one end of a knife from the other, unlike some people I could mention." He grinned at them as Teddy groaned. "But I wasn't going to start for another hour or so; you've plenty of time."

Teddy nodded. "Okay. We'll be back in a little while, then."

They wound scarves around their necks and put on their coats and gloves. The day was chilly and grey, full of mist that seemed almost colder than snow would have been, but Teddy didn't need sunshine just now. Tentatively he reached for Andrew's hand, and after a quick glance Andrew let him take it. They talked in bits and snatches about nothing much, wandering along the streets that Teddy knew well, where he could point out the sweet shop where he'd used to go to occasionally when he had some Muggle money, the playground where he'd once fallen from a swing and knocked out a loose tooth, the house where there had been an Alsatian that had frightened him when he was only four. Andrew listened and nodded and held Teddy's hand tight.

Teddy began to wonder if he was talking too much about himself, and when they turned a corner that would start them on their way home, he lapsed into silence for a while.

"Hey, Andrew," he said finally. "D'you mind if I ask you a question?"

Andrew shrugged and squeezed Teddy's hand. "You can always ask, but I may not always want to answer."

Teddy nodded. "That's fair." They walked on for several yards before Teddy figured out how exactly he wanted to word the question that had formed in his mind.

"You might not want to answer this one after all," he said, giving Andrew's hand a gentle squeeze, "and I'll understand if you don't. It's kind of private. Um." He paused again. "I was just wondering what your sisters wrote to you. You know--in the card they put on the present that they sent."

Andrew didn't answer right away, and Teddy almost wondered if he'd heard the question. He dismissed that thought, though, with a shake of his head. Of course Andrew had. He was just taking his time answering--if indeed he planned to answer at all.

"They just said they'd miss me at Christmas," Andrew said. His voice sounded distant, and he didn't look at Teddy when he spoke. "And they signed it 'love', which I guess can only be a good thing."

"Oh," said Teddy, and nothing more. He wanted badly to ask if Andrew thought his sisters knew why Andrew wasn't home for Christmas, but he didn't want to ask--Andrew was clearly upset by the question, and Teddy couldn't pry any further.

But, to Teddy's surprise, Andrew continued.

"My sister Ruthie wrote a postscript, though. She wrote--" He paused, almost smiling. Teddy waited.

"She wrote 'This isn't very Christmassy, but I think Mum and Dad are being idiots.'"

Teddy wanted to laugh, but he checked himself, waiting for Andrew's reaction. When Andrew finally let out a breathy little chuckle, so did Teddy.

"Ruthie sounds great."

"She is." Andrew was still smiling, though Teddy saw him swallow hard. "Even though she _is_ fifteen and knows _everything_."

"I always wanted a sister or brother," Teddy admitted.

"Sometimes I didn't!" Andrew said. "Ruthie's eight years younger than me, and Gemma six. They were both right pains when they were little, always getting in my way. But now that we're all older, it's better."

They were just about home, now. Teddy wanted very much to kiss Andrew right then, but although they'd been holding hands, he was pretty sure that Andrew would not go for public snogging. Well, as a general rule Teddy didn't like seeing it either, whoever was involved, so that was reasonable, he supposed. He waited until they were inside and hanging up their things, then brushed Andrew's lips in a kiss. "Come on, let's see what help my dad needs."

Remus needed someone to peel potatoes, they found, and Teddy ended up doing that since it didn't take much skill. Andrew was put in charge of both the sprouts and the Yorkshire pudding. He beat up the pudding batter first, since that needed to sit, and then poked around in Remus's fridge and cupboard.

"Are you looking for something in particular?" Remus asked him.

"Found what I need," said Andrew, with an orange in one hand and a packet of walnuts in the other. "I know an interesting dish to make with sprouts--you sauté them in a little walnut oil, then steam in the orange juice, and toss with toasted walnuts and orange zest."

"I don't think I have walnut oil," said Remus, "but that sounds delicious. If you can teach Teddy to cook marvellous dishes like that..." He winked.

Teddy was torn between pride in Andrew and mild annoyance at his father, even though he knew Remus didn't mean it to put Teddy down. Teddy's inability in the kitchen was a long-standing joke.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Sam had been leaning against the door frame, watching them all.

"Nope." Remus went and gave him a quick hug. "There's barely room for three to work. Just sit at the table if you want and keep us entertained."

"Shall I regale you with salacious tales of my days as the infamous Stubby Boardman?" Sam asked, "or would you rather have something a little more Christmassy?"

Teddy turned around and was about to open his mouth to say that he'd very much enjoy hearing stories from Sam's wild days, but Remus interrupted.

"How about some music while we cook?" Remus suggested.

Sam grinned. "I can manage that, I think," he said, and he moved to the wireless and fiddled with the dial until he came across a station playing all the old familiar Christmas carols, then began to sing along in a comfortable baritone while he got plates and glasses down from the cupboards in anticipation of the dinner the other three were preparing.

Remus hummed along as he rubbed the roast with herbs and began tying string around it, his movements deft, his voice a bit shaky. Even Andrew sang a snatch of carol here and there--a chorus, a verse, a line or two.

For his own part, Teddy focussed on the potatoes, getting every last scrap of brown skin off, gouging out the bad spots here and there. He wasn't a singer, and he knew it, and he wouldn't inflict his renditions of the carols upon the rest of the group. He knew his dad's voice was shaky, but it was comforting--his was the voice that had comforted Teddy as an infant and as a young boy, the voice that sang along to Christmas carols every year. Teddy's voice was just plain _bad_ , he thought, and no one should have to hear it.

After a while, though, he found himself singing along under his breath despite his better intentions, and he stopped.

Andrew nudged him. "Why'd you stop?" he asked in an undertone.

Teddy felt himself turn pink. "You could hear that? I didn't--I'm not a very good singer."

Andrew shrugged. "You sounded fine to me," he said, and he turned away to attend to his sprouts.

A few minutes later, Teddy found himself singing again. This time he carried on with it despite his misgivings.

Dinner was wonderful, as Christmas dinners cooked by Remus always were, and although sprouts had never been Teddy's favourite vegetable, the way Andrew had cooked them was really quite good, Teddy thought.

Afterward the four of them sat by the tree once more, and Sam brought out a bottle of brandy and poured them each some in Remus's best glasses.

"I think we should make a toast," he said, raising the cut crystal so that it caught the flickering light from the fire and the fairy lights on the tree. "What should it be to?"

"Why don't we each propose one?" Remus suggested. "Andrew, would you like to start?"

That courtesy clearly caught Andrew by surprise, but after a second he said, "To the season," and touched his glass to Teddy's before drinking.

"Um, to friendship," said Teddy. He wasn't quite ready to say "to love," although that was what he meant, looking at Andrew, and then at his father and Sam sitting together.

"Very nice, Ted," Remus murmured. "Sam?"

"Oh, I'll be traditional." Sam grinned. "To your very good health."

Everyone drank for the third time. Unaccustomed to such strong liquor, Teddy could feel it going to his head a bit.

"Hm," said Remus. "To happiness, for all of us, however it may arrive." He turned a look on Sam that made Teddy almost squirm to see, it was so intimate.

"Now, the Potters' party isn't until afternoon, and you don't have to work, do you Ted?"

Teddy shook his head. "Madam Poyt doesn't open on Boxing Day."

"We can all sleep late tomorrow, then," said Remus. "That is--Andrew, will you be attending the party with us?"

Andrew looked at Teddy, then back at Remus, and he nodded. "Yeah--yes. I will. Ted somehow talked me into it." He threw a shy grin Teddy's way to show he was only joking, but Teddy gave a squawk of protest anyway.

They all stayed up quite late talking, and there finally came a point when Teddy realised he was actually rather drunk on the brandy. He reached for Andrew's hand, half out of affection, half because he thought he might be a bit unsteady when he rose.

"I think I'm ready for bed," he said, yawning widely, and Andrew nodded.

"Me, too." They rose and, as Teddy had expected, he was a bit wobbly, but he thought he hid it well from his father and Sam, who seemed quite themselves.

Teddy hugged his father and Sam, and thanked them for the best Christmas he could remember in a long time. Andrew stuck out his hand to thank Remus, but Remus was apparently having none of Andrew's formalities, and he pulled him into a hug as well, patting him on the back, holding on maybe a couple of seconds too long.

When they entered Teddy's room, Andrew confessed that he thought he was a bit drunk.

"Me, _too_ ," Teddy said, and to his horror, he actually _giggled_.

Andrew laughed, and his laugh turned into a snort, and Teddy laughed harder. Andrew shoved him, and Teddy fell onto the bed, grabbing Andrew around the waist and taking him down with him.

They ended up face-to-face, both still laughing at themselves and at each other. When their laughter subsided, they began to kiss, and Teddy slid his hands up underneath Andrew's jumper.

"Oh, 's brilliant," Andrew sighed, and he began kissing Teddy harder.

Not another word passed between them until they were both naked and hard and rutting against each other, and Teddy hissed a _yes_ and Andrew gasped Teddy's name. The room was silent again, then, save for the sounds their bodies made and the creak of the bedsprings, until Teddy came, spending himself all over Andrew's belly. Andrew followed not too long after, and they lay in silence, wrapped around each other.

Teddy struggled to stay awake, to make the night last, but it was a losing battle, and before he knew what had happened, it was late morning, and he and Andrew were still naked and covered in each other's come.

"Ew," Teddy complained. "I think maybe brandy wasn't such a good idea." He had a throbbing headache, too, and judging from Andrew's paleness, he wasn't alone. Some Pepper-Up made them both feel rather better, and they cleaned up and then spent the morning playing several rather desultory games of Wizard's Chess. Remus puttered about, tidying away scraps of paper and drinking tea, and Sam had gone off somewhere for the morning, returning with a rather grim expression that he erased when he saw Teddy had noticed it.

At two o'clock Remus reminded them that it was nearly time to leave, and they went up to Teddy's room to change out of the tatty tracksuits they'd been lounging in so comfortably.

"We don't need to dress up, right?" Andrew asked. "I didn't bring anything fancy with me."

"Not for this, no." Teddy laughed. "It's totally informal, there are always tons of little kids running around, people coming and going. You look fine just like that." And Andrew did, in a blue jumper and black corduroy trousers, his fair hair curling a bit at his neck. Teddy himself was wearing a green jumper and brown trousers, and had turned his hair holly berry red, for the season, even though he knew Remus would roll his eyes and say he looked like a Christmas tree.

"I'm kind of nervous about this," admitted Andrew. "I mean, meeting _Harry Potter_."

"Harry's really a great guy. He's my godfather, you know, and even if he's surprised to meet you, it'll be okay." Teddy touched Andrew's shoulder. "Honestly. Don't be nervous of him, just treat him like anyone, like you do Sam. He hates being famous, actually."

"Okay." Andrew took a deep breath. "I'll try to remember that."

They took the Floo to the Potters'. When Teddy tumbled out, Remus was already introducing Sam to Harry and Ginny.

"We've sat on a board or two together," Harry said, clasping Sam's hand in greeting. "I'm so glad you could come with Remus today." Ginny smiled and pecked him on the cheek.

"Here's Ted," said Remus, gesturing him over.

"We need to get you over here more often," said Harry with a hug. "My children are always asking when you'll visit again."

"And this is my friend Andrew," Teddy said, stressing the word "friend" just a bit.

Harry stuck out his hand, and Andrew took it. "Pleasure to meet you, Andrew," said Harry. "Any friend of Teddy is a friend of ours." He turned to Remus. "From the way you spoke the other day, Remus, I somehow imagined Teddy was going to be bringing a date." He chuckled as if this were a particularly funny misunderstanding.

Andrew immediately turned bright red, and Teddy looked at the wall and nodded. He felt his father's hand curl protectively around his shoulder from behind.

Teddy reached over and hooked his smallest finger around Andrew's, still not looking at anyone else in the room, grateful for his father's fortifying presence behind him.

"Harry--" said Ginny, and there was a pause, then Harry sucked in a breath as if recognising what was going on right in front of him.

Teddy sneaked a glance at Andrew, who was staring at his shoes, but he still gripped Teddy's little finger with his own as if Teddy were the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. _Funny_ , Teddy thought, _That's how I feel about you_. He wished for a moment that Andrew was telepathic, then realised that _someone_ was going to have to speak, and it was, apparently, going to have to be him.

He raised his head and looked Harry in the eye. Harry's eyebrows were raised, his mouth open a little. "This is my friend Andrew," Teddy repeated.

Harry nodded and finally smiled--and the smile was genuine, even if it had taken several uncomfortable moments to appear. "Ted," he said, "I'm sorry. I kind of bollocksed this whole thing up, didn't I? Shall we start again?" He looked over his shoulder. "And where's Ginny gone?"

Ginny, it transpired, had gone to fetch Charlie from amongst the revellers in the kitchen, and she brought him back just as the conversation was finally beginning to flow from its stilted, stuttering beginnings. Andrew hadn't said much yet, but his cheeks were only pink now, instead of scarlet, and some of that could likely be blamed on the heat from the fireplace. He was holding Teddy's hand, now, instead of just his littlest finger, and Teddy thought that that could only be a good thing--that, and the fact that Andrew hadn't disappeared back into the Floo immediately upon Harry's revelation.

"Ginny, seriously, what could possibly be so important that you had to drag me away from--oh! Remus! Teddy!" Charlie bounded towards them, enveloping first Remus, then Teddy, in enormous bear hugs.

"And who have you brought?" he asked.

"Charlie, this is Sam Boardman," Remus introduced them. "Sam, Charlie Weasley, who works at the dragon reservation in Romania."

Charlie squinted at Sam. "Not _Stubby_ Boardman?"

Sam chuckled ruefully. "I'm afraid so."

"No worries," Charlie said in easy tones, clapping him on the shoulder. "Just wanted to make sure I wasn't mistaken. Now Teddy, who's this?"

His eyes flicked to where Teddy's hand held Andrew's, then back to Teddy's face, and Teddy didn't feel at all abashed by saying, "Uncle Charlie, this is my friend Andrew, Andrew Pilkington. Reserve Chaser for the Pride of Portree."

"Andrew, I'm very pleased to meet you," said Charlie.

Andrew let go of Teddy to hold out his hand to Charlie, who ignored it and instead hugged him. Andrew gave Teddy a slightly panicked look, and Teddy just grinned and shook his head. That was how Charlie was with pretty much everyone, and always had been.

"Drinks are in the kitchen, food is, well, all over," said Ginny briskly. "Ted, you know where everything is. James and Al and Lily are all playing Gobstones, I think, with the other kids, and they'd love to see you, but of course you needn't spend the whole afternoon with the children."

"Sure," Teddy said. "We'll go up there in a bit." He took Andrew's hand again and squeezed it. "Maybe something to eat first though."

"Come on, I was interrupted in mixing an amazing drink I learned last year from a Spanish bloke." Charlie stepped behind them and put an arm around each of their shoulders, steering them towards the kitchen.

Teddy and Andrew watched as Charlie finished preparing the complicated concoction and poured a round for everyone who was there--various other assorted Weasleys, Neville Longbottom and his wife Hannah, Dedalus Diggle, and several other people whom Teddy didn't know but assumed were work colleagues of either Harry or Ginny. The Boxing Day party was mostly for family and friends, but Harry had a habit of inviting anyone he felt like or happened to bump into the last week before Christmas, too. Teddy had been appalled two years before to run into Madam Vector, especially since Arithmancy was not his best subject.

"See?" he said, sidling up to Andrew and speaking in his ear. "Not too bad, eh?"

Andrew leaned in. "Honestly, when we first got here, I thought I might possibly die. Face-to-face with Harry Bloody Potter and him staring at me like I was some kind of--of--god, I don't even _know_ what he must've thought at first."

"I know," replied Teddy, "I think we managed to shock him. But it's all right--and Charlie's pretty cool, isn't he?"

Andrew grinned. "Yeah," he said, "Charlie, I like. I'd never have known he was-- _you know_ \--if you hadn't told me."

They were interrupted by a shout from the kitchen doorway, and Teddy snapped his head around to see what was going on. Charlie was hugging someone, someone tall and thin and red-haired, and that person was hugging him back. When finally the two let each other go, Teddy saw that it was Bill Weasley--and Victoire and her mother Fleur were standing right behind him.

Teddy felt himself go a bit pale. It was one thing to get a letter from Victoire saying everything was all right, but quite another to see her in person for the first time in a very long time--and with Andrew by his side.

He leaned over to speak in Andrew's ear, keeping his eyes on Victoire, who had spotted him.

"Victoire's in the doorway, just there," he said, inclining his head towards her. "I don't think this will be _too_ awkward, but I thought I should give you fair warning."

Andrew didn't look, but he nodded and murmured his thanks, concentrating on finishing the drink Charlie had mixed for him.

Victoire finally smiled in Teddy's direction, and she inclined her head towards Andrew, a quizzical expression on her face. Teddy couldn't stop a goofy smile from spreading across his own face as he nodded and reached for Andrew's hand. Victoire raised her well-plucked eyebrows as if to say that she quite approved.

And when she had survived her own overly enthusiastic greeting from her Uncle Charlie, she made her way across the room and stopped in front of Teddy and Andrew.

"Happy Christmas, Ted." She gave him a quick hug. "Introduce me to your... friend?" A smile played over her lips.

"Victoire, this is Andrew. Andrew, Victoire."

"Hello, Andrew." Victoire held out her hand.

Andrew shifted his empty glass to his other hand and shook Victoire's. "Hi."

There was an awkward pause, and then Victoire gave a throaty chuckle. "I'm not sure what I expected, but I don't think this was it."

"Me, either," said Teddy. "Um, can I get you a drink?"

"I'll do it," Andrew offered, and escaped the corner with an air of relief.

Victoire laid her fingers lightly on Teddy's forearm. "You look happy. I'm glad. Does this mean I can tell other people about you?"

"I am," he said, a little embarrassed that she was so open in speaking about it, and cocked his head to look at her. "Yeah, I guess it does, if you want. How are things with you? How's, um, Geoffrey?" He was pleased that he'd remembered the name.

She made a flicking gesture that was so much like her mother that Teddy had to suppress a laugh. "Geoffrey is out of the picture, as I told you he would be. There's no one else at the moment, but that's all right. With my N.E.W.T.s next year, I need time for study, not distractions."

Andrew returned with a drink for Victoire and another for himself.

"Thank you," Victoire said, taking it. "So how did you two meet?"

"Well, my dad and Sam--did you meet Sam?"

Victoire nodded.

"My dad and Sam took me to a Quidditch match, and I ended up going to a pub with some of the players afterward. Andrew's a reserve Chaser for Portree, you see."

"Ah." Victoire smiled at Andrew. "Do you enjoy it?"

It took Andrew a moment to answer--he was looking at a cluster of photographs on the wall.

"Oh--yeah," he said, "I do. Very much."

Victoire nodded. "And how long have you two been--er--" She pursed her lips, as if trying to think of the proper term for whatever Andrew and Teddy were.

"Together?" Teddy supplied, and Victoire nodded again.

"Um--" Teddy looked at Andrew, who have a one-shouldered shrug as if to say he didn't mind which details Teddy chose to share. "For a little while, now." He didn't feel the need to explain to Victoire that he and Andrew had ignored each other for a fortnight, or that they'd had a bit of a strange start to the whole relationship.

"Good," said Victoire, and she turned to Andrew. "You make him happy, so I like you. Just don't ever upset him, or I'll kill you. That's a promise."

Teddy gave a nervous laugh and stepped between them. "She's one-eighth Veela and one-half Weasley," he explained, "and therefore she can't help what she says more than half the time." He swallowed hard.

"Oh, I know what I'm saying, Teddy Lupin," Victoire interjected, her hand on her hip, a smile playing about her lips, "and Andrew knows I'm serious. But right now, I like him, so he has nothing to worry about."

Andrew nodded. "Well, thanks. I think."

"You're most welcome," said Victoire in her politest voice. "Listen, I have to go and say hello to a few more people, but I'm going to find you both again later, all right?" They both nodded. "And Andrew?"

"Yes?" Teddy noticed that Andrew's knuckles were white where he held his drink.

"I'm probably not the only one in this family who'll kill you if you hurt Teddy. Might want to keep that in mind." She winked at him as she walked away.

Andrew exhaled sharply. "Wow," he said, "she's... something."

"She is," Teddy agreed. "We've known each other since we were in nappies."

"I think she meant that, about both her and other people in the family killing me if I hurt you." Andrew's voice spiralled up in question.

"Yeah... but don't worry. Really. Wouldn't your sisters say the same to me?" Teddy asked.

That made Andrew laugh. "They probably would," he agreed.

"Come on, I need another drink and you should meet Harry's kids," said Teddy, and tugged Andrew out of the kitchen.

They stopped along the way to get a refill from Charlie, who gave Teddy a huge wink, saying in an undertone, "You know you can owl me if you need any advice, okay? Your dad could tell you things, but it might feel less odd to talk to someone else."

Teddy flushed at that, but nodded and promised not to leave without saying hello again.

"Let's detour through the dining room before we go upstairs and find the kids," said Teddy. "The best food is usually in there, and I'm hungry, I don't know about you."

"Being nervous always makes me hungry," Andrew said.

They piled plates with a bit of this and a bit of that. Teddy bit happily into a mushroom tartlet and followed it with something that seemed to be a slice of beef wrapped around herbed cheese. "'S always wunnerful food," he said with his mouth full, and Andrew nodded enthusiastic agreement.

"Ted, how are you?" he heard someone call from the doorway.

"Aunt Hermione!" Teddy sidled around a witch he didn't know to be embraced by first Hermione, then Ron Weasley. "This is my friend Andrew." He turned, but Andrew was still on the other side of the table. "Andrew, come meet them."

"We don't bite," said Ron, grinning, and shook Andrew's hand. "I hear from Harry that you're a Chaser?"

"Just in the reserves," Andrew said. Ron waved that aside.

"Still. Tell me, what are the chances that the Cannons' new Seeker..."

Teddy didn't hear the rest, as Hermione asked him, "Having a good holiday?"

Stuffing his mouth full of olives, Teddy nodded. He swallowed and jerked his thumb at Andrew. "Andrew's been around for the whole thing, which has made it even better." He'd decided to throw all caution to the wind--Hermione and Ron had clearly been informed of the situation and were just as clearly all right with it, as he gathered from the enthusiastic Quidditch banter that was taking place to his left.

And no matter who he talked to for the rest of the night, Teddy thought he'd be all right with being up front about his relationship with Andrew. Certainly the first few encounters had been awkward, but he was managing all right, and he had decided that anyone who didn't like them could bugger right off.

 _That might prove to be easier said than done_ , a little voice in the back of his head told him, but he ignored it.

"He's been staying at our house," Teddy added.

Hermione's eyes went a little wide, but to her credit, she didn't sound surprised at all. "Oh," she said. "That must be lovely for you all." Teddy was fairly sure it wasn't that she disapproved of unmarrieds sleeping together--he'd heard _far_ more than he cared to on that topic from Harry about Hermione and Ron to believe that. Maybe she was just surprised that Remus was fine with it.

 _If you had any idea_ , he thought, but he just nodded. "It has been. Thanks." He beamed at Hermione, then grabbed Andrew's hand, dragging him from his discussion with Ron that was threatening to turn into an argument over the proposed changes to the rules on Quidditch safety gear.

"I think we're going to go try to find the kids now, and say hello to them," Teddy said.

Hermione nodded--Ron had already been distracted by his brother Charlie pressing a drink into his hand. "We'll see you again before you leave, though?" she asked, and Teddy promised they would before tugging Andrew's hand and leading him up to the relative quiet of the second floor of the house.

"The kids are supposed to be up here," he said. "You'll like them, I think. Al--Albus Severus; he's Harry's younger son--can be a bit whiny sometimes, but none of them are bad or really annoying. And for once, it's going to be nice having someone my own age around."

James, Al, and Lily were delighted to see Teddy, with Lily immediately demanding that he morph for her, which he did, changing his hair colour and nose and ears into all sorts of peculiar appearances. A number of the other cousins were up with them as well; Victoire's younger brother and sister, and Ron's and George's children too. When Teddy introduced Andrew as a friend who was a professional Quidditch player, James's eyes lit up and he started asking Andrew all kinds of questions about what it was like.

"I'm hoping to get onto the Gryffindor team next year," James said importantly. "If they let first-years on, I'd have tried out this year, and probably made it. Our Seeker is rubbish."

Al rolled his eyes at that, and James stuck out his tongue at his brother.

"So you want to play Seeker?" Andrew asked. "Why?"

"Well, it's the most important position, isn't it? Besides, that's what my dad was."

"Granddad was a Chaser, though," said Al.

"There really isn't one most important position," said Andrew. " _Usually_ the team wins whose Seeker catches the Snitch, that's true, but for the audience it's what the Chasers and Beaters and Keeper do that's more fun to watch."

James looked sceptical, and Teddy took the opportunity to suggest they all play a game of Gobstones, which led to a good deal of noisy laughter. Lily won, to her great and crowing delight.

"We should probably go back down," Teddy said then. "There were people I was supposed to talk to again before we leave, and it's already after five."

"Don't go." Al tugged at Teddy's sleeve. "It's more fun when you're here."

"But you have all your cousins to keep playing with," Teddy said. "Tell you what, I'll remind your mum that it's nearly dinner time and make sure she sends up something good to eat soon. I think she's been pretty distracted."

"Oh, all right," said Al, looking disappointed.

Teddy tousled his hair. "I'll come visit you guys again soon, okay? Things have been busy at work with the holidays, but they should slow down again now."

They said their goodbyes, and Teddy and Andrew made their way downstairs, where the party was still going strong. It seemed more witches and wizards had arrived--Teddy was stopped by several people and introduced Andrew to all of them, dropping touches on Andrew's shoulder or holding his hand to show exactly what sort of "friends" they were.

They chatted with Hermione, and Andrew managed to get himself into another Quidditch discussion with Ron before Teddy extracted him and tugged him along through the crowd. Ginny and Harry were disappointed that the two of them were leaving so soon, and made them both promise they'd visit soon, some time when there weren't so many other people around.

"We'd like to get to know Andrew," Ginny said to Teddy, and he grinned.

"He's a good person to know," he said, and then he spied his father and Sam moving towards them. "I'm sorry we have to go, but thanks for having us. It was a brilliant party."

Both Harry and Ginny hugged Andrew as well as Teddy, and then Sam and Remus said their goodbyes as well, and the four of them headed for the Floo.

"Back home?" Andrew asked, and Teddy looked sideways at him.

"Yeah," he said, trying to restrain himself from throwing his arms about Andrew. "Let's all go back home."


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus finally gives Teddy his fifth lesson.

By the time January rolled around, Remus was more than ready for the holidays to be over.

Not that he hadn't enjoyed them; he had, very much indeed. He'd particularly enjoyed having Teddy home, and Andrew with him. The boys had ended up staying the entire week until New Year's Day, although both Teddy and Remus himself had to work again after Boxing Day. Teddy had asked if it would be all right, hinting that he was worried that Andrew might be lonesome, and of course Remus had said yes.

It had been good also to get to know Andrew a little. Andrew had held a couple of cooking lessons for Teddy, with Remus and Sam watching, until Teddy could produce shepherd's pie and also a delicious bean soup. Remus had had several chances to talk with Andrew alone, and found out that as he'd surmised, Andrew's parents had done very much what Sam's mother had, showing strong disapproval of their son's sexuality. Andrew didn't seem to want to say much--doubtless he felt awkward talking to his boyfriend's dad--but he did relax a bit over the week.

Sam had also stayed most of the time, although one night he'd had a charity event up in the north that went very late, and opted to go home to his own flat. "I have to water the plants, too," he'd joked, and Remus had smiled and told him that it was no problem at all.

He wondered, a little, if they would simply drift into living together. He wasn't sure if he was quite ready for that yet, although he grew more and more certain that eventually sharing his life with Sam was what he'd want to do. Better to discuss it, though, than simply slide into things.

No, it wasn't that he hadn't _liked_ having a full house, with people he either loved or was enjoying getting to know; it was that he had grown used to living more or less alone, these past few years, and so it was pleasant to have just Sam, or even no one at all, across the breakfast table as he ate porridge and toast with marmalade and drank hot clean-tasting tea. It was also pleasanter at work once the holidays were over; no more temporary employees of dubious worth, and a much more relaxed feel overall.

The only thing that made Remus uneasy about the arrival of January was the promise he had made to Teddy that they would have the final two lessons soon. He knew that Teddy still wanted them, despite having gotten back together with Andrew, and so he'd managed to find a few moments when neither Andrew nor Sam was around, and told Teddy that they could have the next lesson on Sunday the fifteenth, figuring that he'd be sufficiently recovered from the full moon on the twelfth by then. Sam had another international trip coming up and planned to leave on that Saturday evening--he told Remus that they wanted him there the day before, but he felt he should try to be with Remus on Friday instead.

Remus was, as always, grateful for Sam's presence the day after the full moon, despite his protestations whenever Sam became a little too solicitous towards him. "For god's sake, Sam," he laughed weakly from his reclining position on the sofa, "I'm not an invalid!" Sam merely put down the tea he'd brought in and arranged Remus's blanket for him, dropping a kiss on his head.

"No," Sam said, "but I still like to take care of you." He paused as if he were going to say something else, then shook his head. "I like being around," he finished.

Remus wanted to ask what Sam had really been going to say, but he was too weary to debate, so only nodded and sipped at the tea. "I like _having_ you around," he replied. He knew full well they needed to have a conversation about the ever-looming possibility of their moving in together, but it could certainly wait until Remus was feeling stronger and Sam had returned from his trip overseas.

Sam spent the night on Friday, and Remus fell asleep with Sam's hand rubbing reassuring circles in the small of his back. They passed Saturday with easy chatter and comfortable silences until Sam had to leave.

"I'd stay if I could," he said as he stepped towards the Floo.

"I know," replied Remus, and he did.

He turned back to the empty house and did his best to ignore the knot of dread forming in his stomach. Tomorrow would arrive sooner than he knew it, and he'd done nothing to prepare for Teddy's lesson. What was the lesson supposed to _be_ , even? Remus made his way into his study and pulled a piece of parchment from the drawer--the parchment he'd charmed so many weeks ago to look like an innocuous grocery list.

Remus tapped the list with his wand and scanned past all the things he'd already done to-- _with_ his son, until he arrived at the one they'd be learning tomorrow. Of course-- _toys_. Remus wondered if Teddy had been practising with the plugs Remus had bought for him--or if he was too busy putting something _else_ inside him to even think of them.

No. Teddy couldn't have had sex with Andrew yet, or else why would he want the final lessons? Remus frowned. The lessons couldn't just be an excuse to be close to Remus--he and Teddy had been more at ease together in the past week than they'd been in a long time, each with his own chosen partner, as it should be. Perhaps he had better simply _ask_ straight out when Teddy arrived. Teddy had inherited all his mother's stubbornness; it could be that he was determined to finish the lessons just because he'd said he would, not because he still really wanted to.

In any case, Remus had better think about what he wanted to teach, on the assumption that they would go ahead with it. Toys. Right. He stood, his joints creaking a bit, and went to look in the drawer in his bedroom where he kept them.

Teddy had his plugs--Remus had better send him a quick owl this afternoon, to remind him to bring those. Magical cleaning spells or no, it was better to stick with one's own toys for insertion, when possible. Remus frowned thoughtfully, pulling out a pair of nipple clamps and setting them aside. He could simply explain about harnesses, he supposed, but he chose a set of cuffs and a scarlet silk scarf that he'd used before as a blindfold.

In the back corner of the drawer was a collar, the thick black leather dry with age. Remus touched it with shaking fingers. He would not show Sirius's collar to Teddy. Nor would he bring out the flogger. He had it only because a short-term lover some years ago had enjoyed such play. Remus found nothing erotic in pain--he endured it too often unwillingly. If Teddy became interested in that sort of thing, he could learn the active part of it for himself, with Andrew or whomever.

Before he forgot, he went back to his study and scrawled a quick note.

 _Dear Ted,_

When you visit tomorrow, bring the gift I gave you at our last lesson. I'll expect to see you at about one o'clock.

love, Dad

He wished that he had an owl of his own, but he didn't really need one that often. Instead he hurried out to Diagon Alley and to the post office, where he paid nearly a Sickle to ensure that Teddy would get the note that evening.

Returning home, Remus carefully arranged the items he'd chosen on the night stand in the guest room, and then went to his collection of erotic books to find several that illustrated the use of various toys, including those that they might use but also others. He sat on the guest room bed, flipping through the pages, marking some pictures to show Teddy. The wizards in the illustrations winked and grinned at Remus, demonstrating their skills enthusiastically, and almost despite himself, Remus found himself becoming aroused.

He had plenty of built-up tension--he and Sam had had sex on Wednesday, just before the full moon, but it had been a particularly painful transformation this month, and Remus hadn't been up for it--so to speak--since. But now, sitting on the bed in the guest room, looking at the erotic pictures, thoughts of Teddy filling his mind, yes, he was certainly growing hard in his pants.

Setting the book aside for the moment, Remus lay back against the pillows and unfastened his trousers, releasing his stiffening prick and giving it a few good strokes to get himself fully hard. He wanted to take it slowly, but he found he couldn't quite manage that, as he had become aroused quickly, and his erection was insistent. He shoved his trousers and his pants down around his knees and thrust up into his hand, smearing his precome over his shaft.

 _Best to just do it_ , he told himself, _and maybe again tomorrow morning_. It wouldn't do to come too quickly during Teddy's lesson tomorrow, he rationalised. He would have to be the picture of fatherly competence and patience tomorrow--not the easily-debauched animal he'd been the last time he and Teddy had shared this bed.

He glanced at the toys resting on the night stand, and began to pump his fist harder. He'd be using those on Teddy tomorrow, and he'd have been lying to himself if he'd tried to say the idea didn't turn him on. Hell-- _Teddy_ turned him on, _period_ , and, yes, he could admit that to himself when his orgasm was impending, his balls tightening, his cock leaking precome.

He closed his eyes, then, and gritted his teeth, and he came with a cry that was ripped from somewhere deep inside him, spurting over his fingers, his spunk coating them and his cock and dripping onto his belly in puddles.

It was some time before Remus could move again, could fumble for his wand and clean up his mess.

"Teddy doesn't turn you on," he grumbled to himself as he pulled up his pants and trousers. He stood and smoothed the covers on the bed, trying to make himself believe that.

But the truth was that Teddy _did_ , and Remus had had plenty of opportunities to demonstrate otherwise, but he hadn't been able to do so. Christmas had been lovely, and Remus was quite content with Sam (and, it seemed, so was Teddy with Andrew) but Remus couldn't help but remember, in sudden flashes, the taste of Teddy's mouth, the shape of his arse, the slide of his young skin against Remus's.

Remus was fairly certain he was going to hell, if such a place indeed existed.

He was more certain, however, that he could now manage to control his desires. He would get the chance to be with Teddy twice more, and that would be it. He'd make the most of those two opportunities, he promised himself, and then, desire be damned, it would be over.

Most of him was happy about that.

He heated a can of Scotch broth and made a toasted cheese sandwich for supper, and read a few chapters of a hilarious Muggle fantasy novel about the Apocalypse, quite effectively putting out of his mind for a while what he'd be doing the next day. Rather to his surprise he slept well.

As he'd planned, he masturbated again in the late morning--early enough that he should have no difficulties once Teddy was there, but late enough that he ought to be able to maintain control. It was merely a physical release, unsatisfying. He had cleaned up, eaten an omelette for lunch, and was sipping a cup of tea in the living room, looking at the spot where the Christmas tree had been, when Teddy arrived with a cheerful bang of the front door.

"Hullo, Dad," he called out. "Where are you?"

"In here," Remus replied, his grip tightening on the handle of his cup.

Teddy gave him a grin as he flung himself into a chair. His hair was bright green today, and long; Remus didn't think it suited him well at all.

"Have you had lunch?" Remus asked.

"Mm hm."

There was a slight flush on Teddy's cheeks, more than could be attributed to the cold air outside, and Remus guessed that Teddy had had lunch with Andrew. Or _of_ Andrew. He pushed the thought away.

"I'm ready whenever you are," said Teddy.

Remus put down his cup and looked at Teddy seriously. "We need to talk a bit first. I'm not going to put off the lesson," he said, holding up his hand when Teddy opened his mouth with an indignant expression. "But I need to know why you still want to have these last two." He carefully did not say anything about Andrew, or Sam, but left it at that, waiting for Teddy to answer however he would.

Teddy scrunched up his face. "I guess... I mean, obviously I've been doing stuff with Andrew, yeah, but um. Not penetration." He was very pink now. "And what we _have_ done, a lot of it was things I learned from you. Like rimming."

Remus nodded. Perhaps Andrew _had_ been lunch, then. He tried hard not to picture it, but the harder he tried, the clearer the picture in his mind became: Teddy with his face buried in Andrew's arse, his tongue buried deep in Andrew's hole, Andrew writhing and moaning under Teddy's ministrations.

Remus coughed and tried to ignore the private show that his mind was delighting in putting on for him.

"And you haven't tried penetration at all? Why not?" Remus kept his voice soft and non-accusatory; he certainly didn't want Teddy to think he was being chastised.

Teddy sat forward in his chair and screwed up his mouth, looking at the floor. He didn't answer for a long moment.

"I guess..." he said finally, "I guess I just wanted you to teach me, like you've been teaching me all along. It wouldn't have felt right to try to figure it out with Andrew, you know? _You're_ my teacher, Dad." He smiled and shrugged, still with his head bent, not meeting Remus's eyes. "I want to learn from you."

"And is that the whole truth?" Remus asked.

Teddy looked up, and he shrugged again. "Yeah, Dad. Why wouldn't it be?"

Remus shook his head. "Never mind." He set his teacup on its saucer on the table, and stood, extending a hand to Teddy. "You said you were ready. Are you, really?"

Teddy grabbed Remus's hand and stood. He nodded. "I brought the plugs, too, like you asked," he said, holding up a small carrier bag he'd had tucked in a pocket.

A lump formed in Remus's throat, and a knot in his stomach, but he ignored them both. "Good," he said, "I'd hoped you wouldn't forget them."

Teddy grinned. "Not a chance," he said. "I've honestly _really_ been looking forward to this lesson. I mean, I've practised with them on my own a bit--I've only used the biggest one once, though--but I want to use them with you. Show you, you know, what I can do."

For a moment, it was as if Teddy were a little boy again, standing there in front of Remus, eager to show off his latest accomplishment--tying his shoes, counting to one hundred, casting _Wingardium Leviosa_. Remus shook his head and the mirage disappeared, and it was tall, grown Teddy standing there instead, with his ridiculous green hair.

"Do me a favour," Remus growled. He cleared his throat--he hadn't meant to sound so harsh. "Change your hair before we go upstairs."

Teddy looked remorseful, and he bent his head, and a moment later his hair was still shaggy, but short and brown. Remus thanked him and took his hand again.

"This will probably be a long lesson," Remus said as they went upstairs, and Teddy laughed.

"Am I supposed to be unhappy about that? Double Potions, yeah, but not a double lesson with you. How could you possibly think that's a problem?"

Remus laughed a little bit too. "Not so much a problem, I just wanted to give you fair warning. Maybe up through dinner. We could go out and pick up something afterward, if you like." Talking about dinner was something so normal that Remus was able to relax a bit again, despite hearing Teddy's gasp as he saw the things laid out on the night stand when they went into the guest room.

"Wow." He set down his own little bag and looked at the set of black rubber plugs that Remus had arranged in graduated sizes; the largest was considerably larger than any of those that Remus had given to Teddy. "Those are yours, I guess."

"Yes. Plugs _can_ be shared, if you're very careful about cleaning them properly _every time_ , but it's better, easier, to have your own."

Teddy touched--caressed, really--the biggest plug with a cautious finger, opened his mouth, shut it again, and then moved on to the other things: the clamps, the scarf, the cuffs.

"This scarf I've used as a blindfold, although you can also use them as ties, of course."

"Ties?" Teddy asked.

"Restraints. Like the cuffs, but it's a different sort of feel." Remus gave a tiny shrug. "Why don't we start by looking at some of the pictures in the books? Here." He was only wearing slippers on his feet, but he kicked them off and sat on the bed, pushing up the pillows behind them to lean on and picking up the top book. "Sit next to me."

Again, it was like having little-boy Teddy there with him, cuddled under his arm as they looked at a picture book together--just a very different sort of book, now. Remus turned to the first page he'd marked, which showed a handsome young blond man with his mouth rounded into an "o" as he tightened a pair of nipple clamps on himself.

"Since you like having your nipples stimulated, I thought that might be a toy you would like to try," said Remus.

Teddy sucked in an audible breath. "Wouldn't that be painful?"

Remus nodded. "Perhaps. It's the sort of pain, though, that some people enjoy. And you can adjust them to more tension, or less. I'll show you on your little finger before we try them anywhere else."

"All right," said Teddy, and he ran a finger over the picture. The blond man closed his eyes and wriggled in ecstasy as he tightened the clamps further.

Remus reached over Teddy and turned the page, and found he wasn't above giving Teddy's arm a caress as he did so. The next picture showed a couple, one swarthy and shaggy-haired, the other thin and blond and smaller. The blond man bent over the other, who was tied to the bed with scarves like the one Remus had shown Teddy.

"Oh," said Teddy, "What--what's he doing with his wand?"

"I'm not sure exactly," Remus confessed, "but it looks to be some sort of sex magic. Stimulation of the skin."

Teddy turned his face to Remus's. "Can we try that?"

Remus had never much cared for sex magic, preferring instead the warm, intimate touches of his lover's hands and mouth, and he told Teddy as much. "If you do decide to try it, though," he said, "you _must_ read up on it first. Since I don't really care for it, I've only done it a handful of times, and those were so long ago that I'm not sure I remember everything properly."

Teddy looked disappointed, but he said he understood, and promised he'd do some reading if he decided to try any spells in bed.

"So, as you can see," said Remus as they paged through the rest of the book together, "there are many ways one can use toys, both alone, as you've experienced, and with a partner, as we'll experience today." A shiver ran down his spine, and Remus quaked and squeezed Teddy's shoulder. "Do you think you're ready?"

Teddy turned and hugged him hard. "Definitely," he breathed.

Remus hugged Teddy back, smoothing his hands along Teddy's back. "Let's undress, then," he said in the most business-like tone he could muster, which wasn't very.

Naked, Remus asked, "Would you like to try the clamps first?"

At Teddy's nod, he picked them up, then settled himself cross-legged on the bed. "Come here and take a look." He showed Teddy how the clamps opened and how they could be adjusted with the small screw, and then put one on Teddy's smallest left finger, as he'd said he would. "How does that feel?"

"It's all right." Teddy tried tightening the clamp, then loosening it. "Not quite what I thought it would be like."

"It will feel different on your nipple, of course," Remus told him. "This set comes from a Muggle shop. There are Wizarding clamps, too, which are spelled to tighten or loosen when the owner wishes, usually by giving a verbal command or sometimes a touch."

"Do you have any of those?" Teddy asked. Then he blushed. "Sorry. I don't suppose it's any of my business."

"No, it isn't." Remus relented when he saw how downcast Teddy looked. "But to satisfy your curiosity, yes, I own some Wizarding sex toys, but generally I find the Muggle ones as satisfying. You can charm them to move or vibrate--have you tried that with your plugs?"

Teddy turned even redder, but nodded.

"I thought you might have. That's a fairly straightforward charm, but if you're using Wizarding toys, sometimes the spells already on them react oddly to your own charms, and then you can end up at St Mungo's with embarrassing explanations to make."

"That would be awful." Teddy shook his head. "Okay. I want to try it properly now; will you put it on me?"

Remus swallowed, but he took the clamp off Teddy's finger and placed it on his nipple instead, then repeated the action with the other clamp. "Tell me when it feels tight enough," he said, loosening the screw to make the clamp tighten. Teddy had bitten down on his lip as he watched Remus work. "You don't want it to be _painful_ , just stimulating."

"It's good," Teddy whispered after a moment.

"Too tight?" asked Remus.

Teddy shook his head, still gazing down at his now-decorated nipples. "No. It's really, really good. Will you do the other? Please?"

Remus nodded and moved to tighten the other clamp, and Teddy gave a great shiver as he did so, letting out a little huff and a moan. Remus's cock twitched when he did so, and it was only then that Remus realised he was becoming quite hard.

"Fuck, _Dad_ ," Teddy whispered, "That's _brilliant_. Hurts--but it's--my _god_."

Remus smiled. "Here, lie back," he said, and he guided Teddy onto the mattress. Teddy's cock was stiff and jutting proudly from his thatch of dark brown pubic hair, but Remus ignored both Teddy's erection and his own as he put a knee on either side of Teddy's hips and bent to flick gently at Teddy's nipples.

The shout that emanated from Teddy's throat caused Remus to stop immediately, panicking a little, his heat pounding against his ribcage, but he was determined not to let Teddy know.

"Are you all right?" he asked, embarrassed by the note of panic that coloured his tone, though he'd tried his damnedest not to let it.

"Fffffuck," was all Teddy could say, his eyes closed, his mouth open, panting. He grabbed at Remus's thighs with his hands, clutching desperately.

Remus had a feeling that if Teddy _hadn't_ liked it, he'd be doing a whole lot more than just swearing and grasping. He bent over Teddy and tried it again, a little harder this time, and Teddy repeated his reaction, bucking up and swearing, his mouth opening and closing like a baby bird's.

And Remus, before he quite knew what he was doing, bent and kissed that mouth.

Teddy kissed him back, arching up, and though Remus kept kissing him, he didn't lie upon him, didn't press their chests, their groins, their _bodies_ together.

He did, though, take Teddy's wrists in his hands, pinning the boy to the bed and squeezing, holding him tightly. Teddy squirmed just enough in Remus's grasp--not so much, though, that Remus thought Teddy wanted him to let go.

Slowly he brought the kisses down to a more subdued level, finally stopping altogether and backing away a few inches, although he still held Teddy's wrists to the bed. Teddy opened his eyes, blinking them rapidly.

"I'd say that was a success," said Remus, and Teddy nodded, his eyes fixed on Remus's face.

"Definitely." His voice was almost hoarse. "Um. Dad?"

"What is it, Ted?" Remus kept his reply noncommittal.

"It's true that there are people who, um, get off on pain, right?"

Remus nodded slowly. "Yes." He wasn't sure he liked the way this was heading, but he meant to answer anything Teddy asked--anything theoretical, at least, if not necessarily everything personal--as honestly as he could. He waited to see if Teddy had more to say.

Teddy swallowed. "Because when you tugged at the clamps, it hurt more, but it hurt really _good_. Does that mean I might be one of those people?"

"It might, but you'd have to try other things and see. That's an area of sex that I haven't experimented much with. A little bit of pain can be stimulating, but very much might have the opposite effect." Remus hesitated before adding, "It does to me. And this is _not_ something we're going to do together."

"Okay. That's fair, I guess. I liked not being able to move much, too," said Teddy.

"I wondered if you did," Remus said. "Now that _is_ something that I can teach you about today, if you'd like."

" _Yes_ ," said Teddy vehemently. "Do I have to take these off first, though?" He gestured at the clamps.

Remus considered. "For a lesson like this, it's better to only try one thing at a time. Then you can concentrate on how it makes you feel and not be distracted by other sensations. I'll give you the choice, though; would you rather try the cuffs now, or try putting the clamps on me?"

Teddy opened his mouth to answer right away, then snapped it shut and furrowed his brow, looking at Remus's face, then down at his nipples.

"The clamps," he finally said. "On you. I want to, please, Dad."

"All right," said Remus, and he brought his hands up to Teddy's no-doubt-still-sensitive nipples, and paused. "This may hurt a bit more than you expect, coming off," he said. "Are you ready?"

"I'm ready." Teddy nodded. "But why would it--"

The rest of his question was lost in a hiss as Remus began to unscrew the clamp adorning Teddy's nipple.

"Fuck, _Dad_." There were tears rimming Teddy's brown eyes, and he gazed into Remus's. Remus flinched inwardly--he had seen that look before, when a much younger Teddy had felt betrayed by his father, when Remus had cruelly forced him to eat his sprouts or had forbidden him to play outside alone after dark.

"I'm sorry, my boy," he said, bending to kiss the abused skin, "But I did try to warn you it might hurt."

Teddy bit his lip and nodded. "I know you did, but I didn't expect-- _why_ did it hurt so badly?"

Remus turned Teddy around and sat with his son in his arms so that his chest was pressed against Teddy's back, Teddy's legs inside the curve of Remus's own. His cock rested against the sweet swell of Teddy's arse, but he disregarded that. "Blood is flowing back to the area," he said. "It's like when your leg falls asleep--pins and needles. Surely you've experienced that."

"I have," said Teddy, "And I guess the longer we wait, the more the other one will hurt, right?"

"That's right," Remus replied. He kissed the back of Teddy's neck; it was damp and smelled of soap and nervousness. "But perhaps, if we take it a little more slowly this time, and you're ready for the sensation, you can find some pleasure in it, just as you did when the clamps went on."

After a moment, Teddy nodded. "Yes. All right. I'm really ready this time."

Remus dragged his hands across Teddy's chest, eliciting a shiver and a moan from Teddy. When he reached the nipple, he paused to give Teddy a moment to protest.

But Teddy didn't, and Remus began to unscrew the clamp, sucking and nipping at Teddy's neck to distract him from the sensation that Remus knew all too well from his own uses of the clamps.

Teddy swore and pressed himself back against Remus, one hand gripping Remus's thigh, and soon enough the clamp was off, and Teddy relaxed, slumping against Remus's chest.

"Brilliant," he sighed, and Remus kissed his neck again.

"My brave boy," he murmured. "All right, now? Do you want to put them on me?"

With hands that trembled, Teddy attached the clamps carefully to each of Remus's nipples, tightening them gradually with frequent looks at Remus's face to make sure he hadn't made them too tight. Remus smiled at him when they felt right.

"Well done."

"Can I touch them, like you did?" At Remus's nod, Teddy lifted his hands to play with the clamps, flicking at one and then the other and then both at once. He was still within the circle of Remus's legs, though facing his father now, and his prick swayed enticingly against his stomach as he moved. One of the toys Remus had _not_ brought out to show Teddy, although they'd seen a picture in the book, was a cock ring; now Remus imagined one circling and adorning his son's cock, and shivered as much from that image as from the sensations in his nipples.

"Not too hard," he said when Teddy tugged with a little more force than Remus liked. "Not for me, that is. This is something that you'll want to experiment with, with any given partner."

"I know, like everything else," Teddy said. "I suppose there are times when you'd like it harder or softer, too."

"Yes," Remus agreed. "My reactions tend to be tied closely to the moon's phases, but they can still vary from month to month, even so. Women often have the same sort of cyclical pattern. Some men seem to also, even non-werewolves." He thought of Sirius, whose reactions might have been coloured by Remus's needs, but he'd never been certain.

Teddy nodded understanding, and touched his thumb to the clamp again, moving it just a bit. Remus sighed with the pleasure of the sensation, a jolt of heat spiking to his groin. "You're doing fine."

"Do you want to keep them on? I think I'm ready to try the cuffs, now," said Teddy. "If that's okay."

"Of course it's okay. I think I'd rather have you take these off first though, just for the practise of it." Remus was far more used than Teddy to the strong tingle, even pain, that occurred when the clamps were released, but he found himself biting his lip against it nonetheless, though Teddy was as gentle as anyone could be. "Very good," he assured Teddy when they were off and laid aside.

"Good," Teddy repeated softly. He held the clamps in his palm for a moment, looking down at them, then moved to place them on the night stand. "I'm ready," he said then, looking at Remus.

"All right," Remus said, "but perhaps we should take a short break. I'd really like us both to be able to, ah, make it through the lesson. If you know what I mean."

It took Teddy a moment to catch on, then he looked down at his erection, then at Remus's, and two pink spots appeared in his cheeks. "Right," he said. "Maybe that would be a good idea."

They lay on their stomachs on the bed for a little while chatting about this and that, as if it were the most normal thing in the world for this unlikely pair of lovers. Finally, Remus felt his erection had deflated enough that he could carry on with the lesson, and when Teddy rolled over onto his back, he saw that Teddy's cock was softer, too.

"All right," Remus said. "Restraints." Teddy nodded, his curiosity clearly piqued, and Remus continued.

"Why don't you get both the cuffs and the scarf from the night stand," he said, "And bring them here to me."

Teddy did as requested, placing the items on the bed between them.

"Since you liked it when I held you down, you'll probably like one or both of these methods, as well," Remus said, "though you may prefer to be held down by your partner--it's a more intimate sort of contact, though either of these will leave your partner's hands free for, ah, other activities."

"Oh," replied Teddy, "Yes, I suppose I hadn't thought of that last bit." He paused. "What about, you know, magical restraints, Dad? Like _Incarcerous_?"

Remus frowned. "As I said before, I'm not much of a fan of using magic in the bedroom, aside from cleansing spells. There are some wizards who do like to use magical restraints, but it's the same as magical toys--there are too many things that can go wrong."

"What could possibly go wrong with _Incarcerous_?" Teddy asked.

"There are things that can go wrong with any spell, as I'm sure you've learned," Remus replied, "and when a person is aroused, it can be more difficult to cast a spell successfully. I'll leave the rest to your imagination, and we'll stick with Muggle methods." He was _not_ going to tell Teddy about the time that chains, instead of ropes, had shot out of his wand to affix Sirius to the bed, and it had taken nearly two full days to get him free again.

"I'm not going to tie your feet," Remus said. "Hands should be enough to give you a feel for it." He held up one of the cuffs. "You can see that this is padded, so it won't hurt, just restrain. There are quite a lot of different sorts. Some lock with keys, but this one just buckles around your wrist, and has a ring so that it can be attached to something else--like the bedpost--to hold you there." He smiled at Teddy. "People who are seriously into restraint may have more elaborate and permanent setups, but we're just going to use a bit of ordinary rope, and that I _will_ conjure, since I forgot to bring any."

"And the scarf?"

"I'll put a cuff on one wrist, and use the scarf for the other. You can see if you prefer one or the other." Remus tied the scarf first, since it was a fixed length, having Teddy move to one side of the bed so that it would reach. "Comfortable?"

"Yes," said Teddy, pulling experimentally at the scarf. "Rubs a bit if I twist my wrist, but I expect that's inevitable."

"Pretty much. If it starts to chafe, though, that's a problem." Remus moved to Teddy's other side and fastened the cuff on him, buckling it carefully so that it was snug but wouldn't cut off the blood flow to Teddy's hand. Then he transfigured a spare pillow into a length of rope and tied that to the cuff, then the bedpost. When he had finished, Teddy's two arms were stretched out at an angle.

Teddy tugged at the cuff as he had done at the scarf, and said, "I think I like this one better. It feels more secure somehow."

Remus nodded. "I tend to prefer those myself. They can also be easier to get off; sometimes knots can pull very tight in a scarf or rope. Now." He took a breath. "Something I probably should have mentioned before is having a safe word. It's more important when you're trying more extreme things, like flogging, where you might suddenly decide you have had enough, but it's a good idea even with this type of play. A safe word is something you can say if you want to end what's happening, for any reason--and the other person will stop immediately when he hears it. Do you understand?"

"I understand." Teddy's face was solemn. "What's the safe word?"

"It can be anything, as long as both people agree on it. It's best to choose something you wouldn't say by accident, though, but something short and easy to say and remember." The word Sirius and Remus had used together was "socks"; Remus no longer recalled how they'd chosen it. "Why don't you think of something, since it's your word?"

Teddy paused thoughtfully, his expression at odds with his naked, bound body with the erection that had begun to return.

"Something I wouldn't say by accident... wow, I don't know..." he said. "Socks, or buttons, or something like that, I guess."

Remus cleared his throat and hoped his expression hadn't registered shock at the first word Teddy had suggested. "I think 'buttons' would be a perfectly fine choice," he said.

"Buttons," said Teddy, "All right. It feels a bit odd to choose a silly word like that."

"But that's precisely it," Remus replied, "The word _is_ a bit silly--at the very least, it's a contrast to what can sometimes be quite an intense experience. The very second either of us hears the word 'buttons', it will take us out of the moment. But, of course, I hope we won't have to use it, Ted."

"Me, too," said Teddy, and he tugged at his restraints again. "So what do we do now?" he asked.

"Now," said Remus, "we have some fun."

He hadn't meant to say it in such a growl, and he hadn't meant to make Teddy shiver when he said it, but he did, and Teddy did, and Remus's cock gave an interested twitch. He could do anything he wanted to Teddy, who couldn't escape--kiss him anywhere he wanted, taste him, touch him, _take_ him--

 _No_.

"I'm going to touch you," Remus said, struggling to forget what had just entered his mind, unbidden. "You'll find it's quite a different experience to be touched when you can't touch back--and when you can't control how the other person is touching you." He remembered how he and Sirius would tease each other for sometimes an hour at a time, the unbound partner doing his utmost to bring the other just to the brink of orgasm and no further, then back down again, over and over until one of them lost control.

He trailed a hand down Teddy's chest, scraping lightly with his fingernails. Teddy shivered and struggled against his restraints, and Remus could only smile, moving his hand down, down, until finally (and, god, how long had it been?) he touched Teddy's cock.

Teddy _whimpered_ , there was no other word for it. Remus brushed along the hard length, and Teddy bucked his hips up, trying for more pressure, but Remus easily pulled his hand away. It would be simpler to do this if Teddy's legs were bound, too, but there were advantages to leaving them loose.

"Dad," Teddy pleaded. Moisture was beginning to well up at the tip of his cock, and Remus bent forward suddenly to taste it, holding Teddy's thighs down with his hands. Again he kept the touch light, teasing.

Then he abandoned Teddy's cock and instead began a leisurely exploration of the rest of his body, using both hands and mouth and paying careful attention to Teddy's reactions as he went. His own erection he ignored as best he could for the moment.

The ticklishness that Teddy had had as a young child had mostly disappeared, although Remus was able to make him squirm and squawk by licking his underarm. He was gentle with Teddy's nipples until Teddy begged him to bite harder. The insides of Teddy's thighs tempted him next; he caressed them at length, coming near Teddy's bollocks but never touching them, moving downward unexpectedly instead, to protests from above.

Eventually he stretched out next to Teddy, brushing the backs of his knuckles idly over Teddy's chest. "Do you want more?"

"You mean, wait longer to come?" Teddy asked. Remus nodded. Teddy bit his lip. "Um. All right. Yes."

Remus looked at him, still eager and open to anything Remus might do, and decided to push the boundaries just a bit. He knelt over Teddy's chest and thrust his hips forward. "Can you suck me, just for a little?"

Teddy lifted his head and Remus guided his cock into his son's mouth, only the tip of it--he didn't want to risk Teddy choking in the awkward position--and felt his balls begin to tighten as Teddy's tongue circled him. "That's enough," he said regretfully, far too soon. Teddy's lips and chin were wet and shining. Remus moved back and bent to kiss him, pressing his own cock to Teddy's. Teddy made a needy sound, pushing his hips up against Remus.

"All right," Remus said when he broke the kiss. He began to move downward along Teddy's body again. No more teasing, now; he would let Teddy come once, and then after a bit perhaps they could experiment with the plugs, as the last part of the lesson.

He took the tip of Teddy's cock into his mouth, suckling on the head, running his tongue over the ridge of foreskin. Teddy jerked and thrashed under Remus's ministrations, and Remus took in more of his son's cock, sinking down upon it and hollowing his cheeks to give it a particularly strong suck, then he backed off, teasing, giving gentle licks to the shaft and to the head, finally dipping his tongue into the slit again to taste the precome that was spilling over.

Teddy swore and swore and Remus hadn't heard such a filthy string of words come out of a young man's mouth since Sirius, and though in any normal situation he'd reprimand Teddy for even considering using such language, here it seemed right and natural, and Remus teased Teddy's bollocks as Teddy continued to swear freely.

It could only mean that Teddy was feeling utterly relaxed--and that, after all, was what Remus wanted. For this to be natural instead of sinful, for his lessons to be instructive instead of predatory.

He made noises of encouragement around Teddy's cock and began sucking it in earnest, gripping Teddy's thigh with one hand and teasing his bollocks with the other, dragging his fingertips over and over the tight, hot skin of Teddy's sac.

And then Teddy gave one last violent series of jerks and spilled into Remus's mouth, and Remus did his best to swallow the hot, salty fluid that his son so easily gave up to him.

He tried not to think about how he might never get to swallow Teddy like this again.

When Teddy was coming down from his orgasm, Remus pressed kisses to the insides of his thighs, then crawled up his body to kiss his mouth. Teddy turned away at first, then back after a moment in which he seemed to wrestle with himself, his eyes slitted and nearly black with his diminishing lust, and he opened his mouth under Remus's, and Remus shared Teddy's own taste with him.

"Fuck," Teddy finally gasped, "Dad. Dad, please let me go."

It took Remus a moment to realise what Teddy meant--at first the question pained him, but then he remembered the bindings, and he apologised and worked quickly to release Teddy from them, massaging the boy's tender wrists as he did so.

"All right?" he asked, lifting one hand to his mouth to kiss the palm.

"Yes." Teddy shuddered, and his other arm went around Remus. " _Very_ all right," he said against Remus's chest.

They sat there, holding each other, until Teddy stirred and said, "You haven't come yet."

"Don't worry about that. I'm fine," said Remus, lying only a little. "There's more to this lesson still, you know."

Teddy turned his face to Remus, his eyes shining. "Can I show you what I do with my plugs? And, um, I want to see you use yours, if that's okay." He licked his lips, unconsciously, Remus thought.

"That's why I brought them out." Remus stroked Teddy's shaggy fringe back. "Why don't I go first?" After such an intense orgasm, Teddy might be more in the mood to watch than to perform right away.

" _Yes_ ," Teddy agreed.

Remus leaned over and picked up his largest plug, the one that Teddy had been so obviously excited by. "The only real difference between a plug and a dildo, by the way, is that plugs will have this sort of flared base so that you can leave them in, if you like." He coughed, remembering a time when he'd worn one all day, at Sirius's request, and nearly come in his pants several times. "You _don't_ want to have something slip so far in that you can't get it out again.

"Now, what size you might choose depends partly on what you're going to do with it. If you _are_ going to leave it in for quite a while, smaller might be better. On the other hand, as you've found out, as you use them more often a larger size might be more satisfying. There's no best choice overall, which is why having several can be good."

Teddy nodded, watching intently as Remus took the lubricant and smeared it generously onto the plug, then cast the cleaning spell on his arse.

"I'm going to start slowly. You can ask questions if you want," Remus said. He lay back, raising his knees, and brought the tip of the plug to his arsehole. His erection had subsided only a little as they'd cuddled and talked.

He didn't take his gaze from Teddy's face as he pushed the plug into his arsehole, but watched Teddy as Teddy stared, transfixed, at what Remus was doing. Out of the corner of his eye, Remus could see that, despite his recent orgasm, Teddy was brushing his fingers over his inner thighs and over his belly, coming near to his cock but not quite touching it.

"Sometimes," said Remus, remembering he should be instructing, "it can be very stimulating to just play with the plug, and leave your cock untouched. I'm sure you've realised this, but I thought it worth pointing out." Teddy nodded, still staring, as Remus gave one last push, sinking the plug in to the base.

He let out a satisfied sigh and closed his eyes, squeezing his arse to keep the plug inside, and just lay there for a long moment, fully aware of Teddy's gaze upon him. He so dearly loved being filled like this, whether with a tongue or fingers or a cock or a huge toy like the one in his arse now.

He stretched his arms above his head, arching his back off the bed and curling his toes, squeezing his arse harder around the plug, then spread his legs again and got down to business.

"As we discussed before," he said, starting to move the plug in his arse, "it's all right to use a movement spell on your plug so that your hands will be free to touch yourself or your partner. But there are advantages to using your hands on the plug as well--you can control the speed and depth of its movements better. Shallow thrusts--" and here he demonstrated these, pulling the plug almost all the way out of his arse and teasing himself with it.

Teddy leaned closer, watching.

"Or deeper ones," Remus continued, and he grunted as he pushed the plug in to the base once again. "You can go quickly, or more slowly, and you can change speeds whenever you like."

Teddy moved to sit between Remus's spread thighs, still watching, but not touching, not speaking. Remus spread his legs even wider, loving being exposed to his son's gaze like this, knowing full well he'd have limited opportunities to repeat the experience. _One more lesson._

"You can also change the angle, although that's easier to do with something smaller." He demonstrated it nonetheless, pulling the plug nearly out and pushing it back with a more upward thrust, gasping a little.

Teddy's lips were parted, his breathing rapid as he focussed his attention on Remus, on the motions that Remus was making.

Remus let go of the plug, now fully inserted, and paused. "Ted?"

Teddy dragged his gaze upward to meet Remus's, but still said nothing.

"Would you like to ask anything, or do anything?" said Remus softly.

"It's so _big_ ," Teddy whispered.

"Are you wondering if it hurts?" Remus asked, but Teddy shook his head.

"If you like a plug that big, um. Is Sam..." Teddy turned bright red and didn't finish the sentence, but he didn't have to.

"No, I've never met anyone who had a cock as big as this," Remus reassured him. "It's different with another person. You've used your plugs--don't you think so?"

"I guess." Teddy looked down again. "I don't have anything to compare them to, yet."

Remus mentally berated himself. "You will have, though. For me, having something large makes the sensation more intense, and if it's just mechanical--if I'm by myself, not with someone--then that intensity helps. Does that make sense?" Having such a serious conversation with his son while his arse was filled with his largest plug nearly made him chuckle with the incongruity of it, but he repressed the laughter lest Teddy think he was laughing at _him_.

"Yeah, it makes sense." Teddy stretched one hand out, the other still resting on his thigh, near his now-stiffening cock. "Can I...?"

"Touch me? Yes."

Remus could have sworn Teddy whispered a _Thank you_ as he leaned forward and wrapped his hand around Remus's cock without any preamble, stroking it hard--too hard.

"Slow down, Ted," he panted, "just a little, please." Teddy did as he was asked, rubbing his thumb over the slit to smear the fluid that had collected there, keeping his touches sure and firm, yet not too rough.

"Good boy," Remus praised him. "Do you--would you like to--" Remus was so aroused by the question that had come into his head that he could barely speak it aloud.

Teddy lifted his eyebrows, and Remus cleared his throat and tried again.

"Would you like to fuck me with the plug, Ted?"

The noise that emanated from Teddy's throat could only have been described as a whimper, and he nodded his head frantically, moving closer so that he could manoeuvre the plug and Remus's cock at the same time.

Remus lay back, overwhelmed by sensation, drawing his knees even further apart. As Teddy began his first tentative thrusts of the plug into Remus's arse, Remus matched the whimper that had come from Teddy only a moment ago.

His son was _fucking him_. Not with his cock, no, but fucking him nonetheless, and Remus knew he wouldn't last long, despite Teddy's unpractised thrusts, despite the poor coordination he showed when using both his hands on a partner. Despite all of that, Remus was being fucked by his son, and that thought alone was enough to make him want to start coming and maybe never stop.

"Yes, _Ted_ ," he groaned, needing to say his son's name aloud, to make it even more real, and Teddy whispered back _Dad_ as he continued fucking him, harder now, jerking his cock ever more erratically.

Remus couldn't help himself--he reached down and covered Teddy's hand with his own on his cock and jerked himself nearer and nearer to completion. He could feel his own precome coating his fingers and Teddy's, too, as their fingers intertwined on his erection.

"Make me come, Ted," Remus choked out. "Fuck me and make me come."

"Ohgod, _yes_ ," and Teddy's voice was as thick as Remus's own as he thrust the plug into Remus's arse again and again, his other hand moving with Remus.

It was almost a shock when he came, spilling out in thick spurts, his arse clenching tight around the plug. Teddy tugged at it once more before apparently realising that he should stop, and instead bent his head over Remus's still-throbbing cock. Before Remus could do or say anything, Teddy had begun to lap at him, cleaning up every drop of spunk on Remus's belly and hands and prick.

" _Dad_ ," he sighed into Remus's skin. " _God._ "

Remus rested his shaking hands on Teddy's shoulders, urging him up into an embrace. He felt the hardness of Teddy's cock against him. "Thank you, Ted." He kissed Teddy's hairline.

"I wanted to," said Teddy, muffled, "I wanted to _really_ be fucking you."

"Next time," said Remus with a lump in his throat. "I'll show you how first, and then you can. Next time." He took a deep breath. "You could tell I very much enjoyed that, right?"

Teddy nodded against him.

"Would you mind some advice for improving?" Remus waited for a second nod, and went on. "It's just a question of practising, really, to use both hands together on someone else, especially if you're trying to have two different rhythms. But it's something you can practise alone on yourself in the same way. You understand?"

"Yes," Teddy said, pressing closer.

"All right. I don't want you to think you did badly, because you didn't, I assure you." Remus stroked Teddy's back, down to the rounded curves of his arse. "Now. I'm ready to take the plug out, and as I remember you were wanting to show me what you've been doing with yours."

Teddy scooted aside, and Remus reached down to slide the plug out slowly. As usual, he felt empty when it was gone. He set it aside, telling Teddy, "I'll clean it later. Never forget to clean everything before you put it away."

"Right," said Teddy. He was already reaching for the largest of his own plugs, as if he wanted to prove to Remus that he could handle being breached by something of considerable size as well.

Remus curled his fingers around Teddy's wrist, stopping him. "Are you certain you want to use that one?" he asked. "If I remember correctly, you said you'd only used it once."

Teddy nodded sharply. "Definitely," he said. "I can handle it. Especially with you here." He coloured and turned away after he said this last, probably embarrassed, Remus thought, that he'd said something almost--almost _romantic_. Remus pressed his lips together for a moment--not to show disapproval of what Teddy had said (despite what Teddy probably thought) but to suppress his own emotions, the ones he was almost certain were about to rise in him again.

 _You told him you could never be his lover_ , he reminded himself. _And you won't be._

Remus knew this, of course. It had taken him years, though, to realise that his constant desire--his constant _need_ , even--to be loved often interfered with what was right, or appropriate, or even moral. And here he was experiencing the same thing yet again, in the least right, the least appropriate, the least moral of situations.

Except that it was really only immoral when _love_ entered into it, wasn't it?

Remus smoothed back Teddy's fringe and watched Teddy smearing lube on the largest of his three plugs, and was relieved to realise that the feeling of love that washed over him at the sight was purely of the paternal variety. As strange as it seemed, he was proud of his son, preparing the plug--and now his arse--correctly, as Remus had taught him, taking the time to do it right.

Teddy reclined against the pillows and spread his legs. "Are you ready to watch me, Dad?" he asked, and Remus felt that same wave of love wash over him again.

"Absolutely," he replied, and he smiled.

"Come and sit between my legs, won't you?" asked Teddy. "I want you to see me like I saw you."

Remus moved as requested. Teddy's arse was still nearly hairless, his dark pink hole inviting a taste. _Perhaps next time._ Remus wondered idly if Teddy ever morphed himself there.

"All right, Ted, whenever you like, I'm ready to watch you."

Teddy began slowly, teasing himself open with just the tip of the plug, circling it around the tight pucker and then slipping it barely half an inch in before repeating the process. "You taught me this, Dad."

"What?" Remus was confused. This was their first time using toys together, after all.

"You taught me--that it could be good--really good--to go slowly." Teddy's words came out in breathy spurts. He fondled his bollocks with his left hand as he continued to manipulate the plug with his right.

"I see. I'm glad of that," said Remus, pride welling up in him again. The lessons that he had been, still was, so ambivalent about were proving to be worthwhile, then. Teddy was learning what Remus had hoped to teach.

Gradually Teddy had worked the plug a bit further in, not quite to the widest point yet. His lips were parted, his forehead furrowed in concentration as he pushed it in and out.

"You look gorgeous like this, Ted," Remus couldn't help saying. It was true. Utterly debauched, fucking himself with a plug in front of his father, but gorgeous nonetheless.

"Really?" Teddy paused for a moment.

"Really," Remus assured him. "You should show Andrew, sometime. I'd expect he'd very much enjoy it, if he doesn't object to using toys like this, that is." Which Andrew might; some people disliked the idea, or thought of it as a kind of infidelity.

Teddy glowed with pleasure at the compliment and said, "Maybe I'll--ask him sometime." He pushed harder on the plug, and Remus watched intently as his arsehole flexed and widened, stretching around it.

"Oh-- _yeah_ ," Teddy sighed as the plug slid all the way in, once he had opened enough for the widest point to enter.

Teddy looked even more gorgeous then, if that was possible, his arse twitching around the plug, his legs spread wide, beads of perspiration forming on his forehead. He puckered his lips and blew out a long breath.

"It's tremendously satisfying, isn't it, being filled like this?" Remus couldn't help but ask.

Teddy fluttered his eyelashes, probably unconsciously, but the action was arousing nonetheless. "God, yes," he replied, "I--" He stopped himself.

"You what, Ted?" Remus ran a hand up the inside of Teddy's thigh, then teased the sensitive skin where his thigh met his groin.

Teddy groaned. "I can't wait for it to be you," he choked.

A shudder scurried up Remus's spine, and he closed his eyes for a moment.

"I'm looking forward to that myself," he managed finally, trying to smile, trying to keep the mood light, trying not to think of the day when he would finally allow himself to sink balls-deep into his son's arsehole. _Once. Only once._

He moved his hand to cover Teddy's on Teddy's bollocks.

"Let me see you fuck yourself now," he commanded in a low tone, and Teddy nodded and began to work the plug in and out of his arsehole, with slow and shallow thrusts at first, then deeper ones as he grew accustomed to the sensations.

Remus took his hand from Teddy's so he had a better view of the utterly arousing sight before him. Teddy hadn't touched his prick yet, concentrating as he was on the large plug filling his arse, and his prick bobbed up and down, leaving smears of precome on Teddy's flat belly. Remus wanted badly to touch it, but he wanted more to be able to watch Teddy's arsehole flexing as Teddy worked the plug in and out of his tight pink hole.

"My wonderful boy," Remus couldn't help but whisper.

Teddy smiled, then, but his brow was still furrowed as if he were concentrating hard.

"Do you really think so, Dad?"

"I always have," Remus replied. "I expect I always shall."

The smile turned wobbly as Teddy whispered, "Thank you." He blinked a few times, his stroke slowing, and then he asked, "Would you--would you fuck me the way I did you?"

The very idea sent a jolt to Remus's groin, his spent prick trying to twitch in interest. He stroked Teddy's thigh again, then moved his hand upward. "Of course."

He grasped the base of the plug and began to move it, following the same rhythm that Teddy had been using on himself, and heard Teddy gasp. Remus waited a few moments. When Teddy did nothing except rock slightly onto the plug, Remus murmured, "Touch yourself, with me," and guided Teddy's hand to his cock. They stroked it together, the slide of their fingers matching the push-pull of the plug.

Teddy's eyes were wide, dilated and dark, as on the cusp of orgasm he stared at Remus. "Please, ohgod, _please_..."

Remus knew what Teddy wanted. He wanted it too, and only the fact that he couldn't possibly manage to become erect again so soon--not at his age, not just after the full moon--kept him from breaking his promise to himself and taking his son right then. He pressed the plug into Teddy's body harder and faster instead, speeding up the movement of their hands on Teddy's cock as well.

"Come on, Ted, let go, come for me," Remus commanded, and with a wail Teddy did.

" _Dad_ , oh Dad, oh yessss..." His voice trailed off in a hiss that was nearly a moan, and the pulses of come from his straining prick splashed as high as his chin.

Remus left the plug there, delighting to see the way Teddy's arse spasmed around it, and rubbed Teddy's cock tenderly until the last drops were spent. Then he did as Teddy had done, and licked his son clean.

 _Only one more lesson. The last._ The words rang in his head as he held Teddy, then helped him ease the plug out and clean up, putting everything away where it belonged.

"Would you like to borrow any of the books?" Remus asked before taking them back to their shelf.

Teddy bit his lip. "Why?" he finally asked.

"Oh," replied Remus, turning to him, "for, ah, inspiration? Or to show to Andrew, perhaps? Although I suppose that also falls under the category of 'inspiration', doesn't it?"

Teddy grinned then. "I suppose it does," he said. He ended up borrowing three of Remus's books--two with Wizarding photographs and one Muggle--promising he'd keep them in good condition until he and Remus met again.

"And when will that be, Dad?" Teddy asked. "I mean, when will we have our next lesson?"

"Our final lesson," Remus corrected, not without a trace of sadness in his voice. "I don't know, Ted," he continued. "We'll have to work something out."

"We always manage to work it out," Teddy said, stepping towards the Floo.

"That we do," replied Remus, and he stepped back to allow Teddy to go.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrew had a crap day. Teddy makes him feel better.

Teddy had been waiting all week to see Andrew again; he was full of ideas from Remus's books and from the last session with his dad. He wanted badly to show Andrew his plugs--he hoped Andrew would enjoy them as much as he did himself--and he thought the two of them could perhaps leaf through the books together and get some new ideas.

Well, maybe not that last--if Andrew asked where Teddy had got the books, he might have a hard time explaining.

But that didn't matter; Teddy had enough ideas of his own. He just hoped he could take things slowly enough not to scare Andrew off.

They hadn't seen each other since their lunch together on Sunday--well, since lunch-and-a-blowjob on Sunday, to be accurate. Practise for the reserve teams had started up again, rigorously, after the holidays, and Andrew had been busy all week.

But it was finally Friday night, and Andrew was coming over, and besides the surprises that Teddy had in store for the bedroom, he'd decided he would cook Andrew dinner as well. No doubt Andrew would be starved after practise, and he'd certainly be delighted that Teddy had made something with his own two hands (well, and his wand) rather than ordering takeaway.

Since he'd made toad-in-the-hole with Andrew's help before, quite successfully, he decided he could do the same again on his own. He bought some vegetables too--a packet of mixed carrots, cauliflower, and beans, already cleaned and cut up--which he could just boil up according to the directions printed on the back. He wasn't foolish enough to attempt to make a pudding for after by himself, but bought a cream slice instead, and instant chocolate.

Teddy hurried home after work. He had, as promised, been promoted by Madam Poyt and now spent part of his work hours mixing potions as well as minding the till in the shop; it was good to feel that he was getting on, but the hours were also a bit longer. The extra Galleons were nice to have, though. He mixed up the batter and poured it over the sausages, shoving the tin in the oven just as he heard Andrew arrive.

"I'm in the kitchen," he called out, and Andrew came in, running his fingers through his damp hair.

"Long practise," he said. "Just had time to shower before I came over."

Teddy went to him and put his arms around Andrew's waist, tilting his head up to give Andrew a kiss. "You look tired."

Andrew made a face. "It was one of those days, you know? I couldn't seem to do anything right. Dropped three passes in a row--our coach bawled me out in front of everyone."

"Well--I just put dinner in the oven, so we've about half an hour." Teddy ran a finger along Andrew's jaw. "Except really only twenty minutes, since I have to boil the vegetables still."

"What did you make?" Andrew asked.

"Toad-in-the-hole," said Teddy. "Just the way you taught me, so it should be perfect. And some mixed veg to go with it."

Andrew's expression relaxed a little, though he still looked tense and unhappy from his bad day. "That sounds really good, Ted."

"But in the meantime..." Teddy gave him a wicked grin. "I have some ideas for later, but how would you like something as a kind of starter? A quick sucking-off to soothe your nerves?"

Andrew lifted an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Really," Teddy replied, "No reciprocation necessary, even." His cock twitched in his trousers as if in protest of this idea, but Teddy ignored it and backed Andrew against the wall, covering his mouth with kisses.

"Yes?" Teddy finally asked when Andrew gave no response.

"I-- _yes_ , yes, I'd be an idiot to refuse," replied Andrew, fumbling with the button on his jeans.

"Let me," Teddy said, and he unbuttoned and unzipped and pulled down Andrew's jeans and nuzzled Andrew's already-stiffening prick through his boxers. He smelled of soap and clean cotton and _Andrew_ , and Teddy smiled to himself as he pressed a kiss to Andrew's belly, just above the elastic waist of his pants.

Andrew thrust forward, but Teddy pinned him against the wall. "Just stay still," he muttered, and he dragged Andrew's pants down and freed his lovely stiff prick, the head of it just beginning to peek from the foreskin.

"I've been waiting all week to suck you off," said Teddy, and he _had_. Andrew moaned at this announcement, slumping a little against the wall.

Teddy drew Andrew's foreskin back, licking round and around the exposed head, then made quick work of sucking Andrew off so that Andrew was soon gasping and swearing and tightening his fingers in Teddy's spiky violet hair and spurting into Teddy's eager mouth.

Teddy pulled away, then, wiping a dribble of Andrew's come from his chin with the back of his hand. He grinned up at Andrew, who gave one last whimper and slid down the wall.

"What did I do to deserve that?" he asked, but Teddy only shrugged.

"Like I said, I missed you," he replied, "and I've been wanting to suck your cock all week. And I--think you're pretty great." He'd nearly said _I love you_ , but he'd caught himself in time. He would have to watch that and remember that they were taking things slowly, no matter how certain he felt about his emotions.

Andrew grinned. "Fair enough," he said, though from the tone of his voice, Teddy was fairly sure Andrew thought it was more than fair. A moment later, his suspicions were confirmed when Andrew said, "I'll definitely have to pay you back later."

Teddy waggled his eyebrows. "You bet you will," he replied, and held out a hand to Andrew. "Come on, up, and we'll have a drink before dinner."

He pulled two beers from the fridge, opened them, and gave Andrew one. Then he put a saucepan of water on to boil for the vegetables and laid the table, feeling very domesticated as Andrew watched him.

"Is it a special occasion?" Andrew asked abruptly. "I mean, you're cooking dinner, you sucked me off, you say you have plans for later..." He took a drink of his beer.

"No. I just wanted to do something nice for you. It's not a special occasion." Actually the day before had been the two-month anniversary of when they had met, and that had partly inspired Teddy, but he didn't want to say so. He poked the vegetables to see if they were done yet. They were; he drained them and put them into a dish, then opened the oven and levitated the toad-in-the-hole over to the table, settling it onto a trivet. "Voila, dinner. Bet you didn't think I could do it."

"I'll wait until I taste everything before I judge." Andrew's voice was solemn, and for a moment Teddy was hurt by Andrew's doubt, until he saw the grin lurking.

"Oh, _you_."

They began to eat. Teddy was pleased with how it had turned out. The vegetables were a little overdone, maybe, but the toad-in-the-hole was perfect, savoury sausages tucked into puffy dough that was lovely and crisp around the edges.

"Cooking isn't really that hard, is it?" he remarked as he took a second helping.

"Not really. I think a lot of people try recipes that are too complicated to start with and get discouraged, or they manage really simple things--like beans on toast--but never bother to go beyond that," Andrew replied. He chewed a bite thoughtfully. "Plus, it's nicer to cook for someone else, so probably some people feel like it's not worthwhile."

"That's true." Teddy certainly hadn't cared about cooking much when it was just himself to feed. "I'm glad you're teaching me. Would you like another beer?"

"I'll get them," said Andrew, standing up.

"Thanks." Teddy smiled at his plate as Andrew rummaged in the fridge, then brought two new beers to the table and opened one for Teddy.

"So why purple today?" Andrew asked a minute later, pointing his fork at Teddy.

"Oh--" Teddy ran a hand over his the vivid spikes of his hair. He shrugged. "I don't know. It just seemed like a purple sort of day."

"Oh," said Andrew, "okay. I didn't know if it was maybe some sort of, um."

Teddy quirked an eyebrow. "Some sort of what?"

"Statement, I guess. Some kind of gay pride thing? Did you wear that to work?" Andrew's voice was cautious, and he spoke rather more slowly than usual, as if he were choosing his words carefully, and Teddy resolved not to be upset by Andrew's questioning.

"No," he replied, "I always keep it brown for work. Madame Poyt prefers it that way, and I like my job, so I don't like to upset her. And it's not some sort of statement, or anything else. I just liked the purple. But I can change it if it bothers you." He said this last very quietly, not really wanting to change it.

Andrew seemed to consider this. "No," he said finally, "it looks good on you. I'm just--" and here he poked at the remnants of his dinner for a long moment.

Teddy didn't dare interrupt, wanting badly to hear what was upsetting Andrew.

"I'm just still working on this gay thing," he said finally, all in a rush. "I lost my family because of it, and though I had a brilliant time with you and your dad and Sam at Christmas, it still hurts. And today--well--" Andrew sighed. "Today when my coach decided to berate me in front of the whole team, he used some, ah, choice phrases, and everyone seemed to think it was hilarious that I was standing there getting called a fairy in front of them all."

Teddy's mouth fell open. He hadn't expected this. "Did he really?" he asked, and he didn't wait for an answer before asking a barrage of other questions. "Did he mean it? What did you say? Surely not _everyone_ laughed--did they?"

"Well--not _everyone_. Meghan McCormack didn't, nor Colin St. John. But pretty much all the rest of them." Andrew answered the last question first. "And yeah, I think that old Harwood meant it. He's said stuff like that before, just not to me. I--I didn't say anything back. What could I say? I'd fucked up royally during practise, I deserved to be dressed down for that."

"Maybe you deserved to be criticised for missing those passes," Teddy argued, "but who you want to sleep with is totally irrelevant to how you played. That's just not on." He could feel himself literally becoming hot, he was so angry on Andrew's behalf.

"What can I do about it, though?" said Andrew. "Harwood's the coach, he's the one who'll decide if I ever get a chance to be on the regular team and not the reserves--although if I don't play better, there's no way he'll even consider that. If I let him know it bothers me, or tell someone else on the team and he gets to hear about it, he'll say I'm too much of a girl to handle criticism and then I'll never get ahead."

Teddy squelched his impulse to say, "Who cares?" He knew that Andrew _did_ care, that he wanted very much to become one of the starting players on the team, to prove his abilities. "Okay," he said carefully. "You've never told anyone on the team that you're gay, right?"

Andrew shook his head.

"That's probably why they laughed." Teddy was figuring out what to say even as he spoke. "If they'd really _believed_ that you were, it wouldn't have seemed funny. I mean, there are girls on the team, Meghan's the Keeper, so being called a girl isn't much of an insult really."

"I suppose not, but it was meant as one. Why do they have to _care_?" Andrew sounded completely discouraged. "Why pick _that_ as the thing to rag me about?"

"I don't know," said Teddy honestly. "I don't know why some people seem to think it's some sort of threat that not everyone is just like them, especially when it comes to sexuality." He thought about it for a minute. "I guess maybe in a small way it's the same with Madam Poyt wanting me to have brown hair, because it's 'normal', even though as a Metamorphmagus purple hair is just as natural for me. Only I can just change, and change back, because any colour is 'normal'--and I can't change who I lo- who I fancy."

 _Bugger._ He bit his tongue over the near-slip, but luckily Andrew didn't seem to have noticed.

Andrew nodded slowly, still poking at the crumbs on his plate. "I guess that makes sense," he said, "and I know I'm just going to have to keep my chin up, or whatever, and deal with whatever shit gets thrown my way. Because I do want to be on the regular team--you know that. It's what I want most in the world."

He raised his eyes and looked at Teddy. He seemed to be considering something. "Close to 'most', anyway."

Teddy played dumb. "What do you mean--there's something that you want more than to play Quidditch until you get too old to ride a broom anymore?"

Andrew smirked. "Maybe _your_ broom," he said, and Teddy groaned.

"You can ride my _broom_ as much as you like, as long as you promise never to make a horrible pun like that again," he said, adding a chuckle to further lighten the mood. He was relieved when Andrew's smile grew a little--he hadn't had a clue what he was really saying or how to make Andrew feel better.

The innuendos about riding brooms hadn't passed him by entirely, though, and a little part of him worried that Andrew might have some ideas for later that night, as well--ideas that Teddy wasn't quite ready for.

"Seriously, though, Ted," Andrew said then, putting down his fork and sitting back in his chair, "the only reason I didn't pull out my wand and throw a good hex at Coach Harwood today--besides that I want to be on the regular team--was because I started thinking of you, and anticipating spending the weekend here with you, and, fairy or no, that made me feel a bit better inside. So, um--thanks," he finished a bit lamely, and he bit his lower lip.

Teddy shrugged and began to clear the dinner plates to hide the satisfaction that he knew was showing in his expression. "I didn't actually _do_ anything--" he began, standing at the sink, but then Andrew's arms went around him from behind and Teddy set the plates in the sink and leaned back into the embrace.

"It's not what you did today, necessarily," Andrew said against Teddy's neck, "it's what you do all the time. I'm bloody crazy about you, Ted, and--and even when I'm practising Quidditch, I can't stop thinking about you, and I _know_ I sound like a bloody great girl right about now, but I swear to you when I started thinking about you today, I relaxed. I can't explain." He paused, laughing, and the ripple of his laughter moved over Teddy's skin.

Teddy turned around in the embrace and put his arms about Andrew.

"I mean, it's not perfect," Andrew continued. " _We're_ not perfect, I guess, me especially, but when we get together--" he coloured. "I just think--sometimes I wish my team could meet you, you know. And my family, too."

Well. _That_ had come out of nowhere.

"Thanks for saying that. It means a lot to me, really," Teddy said, tightening his arms around Andrew. "I know you can't do anything about your coach. Or your parents."

"I was thinking, actually," said Andrew into Teddy's hair. "Ruthie and Gemma are both still in school, but even Ruthie is old enough for the Hogsmeade weekends now. If there's a Saturday when they'd be in Hogsmeade, and I don't have a match, maybe you could get the day off from Slug & Jiggers and go with me to meet my sisters?"

"You mean that?" A flood of warmth swept through Teddy. "It won't be a problem if your parents find out?"

Andrew rubbed his nose. "I mean it. Although you're right, I'll write the girls and make sure they're okay with it, first. I don't know what my parents said to them about me. I haven't heard anything from my mum or my dad since that letter saying they didn't want me home for Christmas this year." He sighed. "Maybe I should try writing them again. It's my mum's birthday in a couple of weeks, I could send a card."

"A card sounds like a good plan," Teddy agreed. "Something simple. But yeah, if your sisters want to meet me, and there's a weekend when all of us are free, I'd really enjoy that. I suppose I saw them at Hogwarts, but you know how you don't really know that many of the other kids unless they're in your year or your House. Ruthie especially sounds like someone I'd like."

"She's a character." Andrew chuckled. "She'll definitely like _you_. Probably she'll be annoyed that you're my boyfriend because she'll want you for herself. Oh," he said, turning red. "Bugger."

"Well, we _are_ boyfriends, aren't we?" Teddy grinned, relieved that Andrew had said it first. "We have dates, we sleep together..."

"Yeah." Andrew was still flushed.

"I like the idea of having a boyfriend. Of having _you_ as a boyfriend," said Teddy. "Like you said. I think about you all the time." He brushed Andrew's fringe back and pulled Andrew's face closer for a kiss that started off gentle, but quickly became much more urgent.

"You said you had some ideas for later," Andrew said when the kiss ended. "Is it later now?"

Teddy pretended to check his watch, though he wasn't wearing one. "This is later enough for me," he said, grinning. "Why don't we go into the bedroom and I can show you what I've been thinking about?"

Andrew responded with a kiss that sent a shiver all the way down to Teddy's toes, then they held hands as they walked into the bedroom.

"What did you have planned?" Andrew asked, but Teddy shook his head.

"Let's get undressed first." He was already fumbling with the buttons of Andrew's shirt by the time he'd finished saying this, and Andrew began to undress him, as well.

When they were naked, Teddy pressed himself to Andrew for another long, toe-tingling kiss, then took his hand and tugged him down so they sat side-by-side on the bed.

"Okay," Teddy said then. "I want to show you something, and if you think it's weird, promise you'll say so, all right?"

Andrew knitted his eyebrows together, and it took him a moment to answer, and when he did, his voice was cautious. "Um, all right."

Teddy gave a nod and scrambled across the bed to open his the drawer of his night stand, extracting the smallest of his plugs from within. He could get the lube in a minute, he decided, if Andrew was okay with the idea. And he didn't think he needed to pull out a plug that was any bigger than the small one, lest Andrew get offended.

"Here," he said, and he gestured for Andrew to hold out his hand, then he placed the plug in Andrew's outstretched palm.

"What--?" Andrew asked, and stopped himself. He closed his fist around the plug.

"Um, it's a plug," said Teddy, suddenly embarrassed. "For your arse. Or, um, my arse. Or _an_ arse. It's kind of fun. I thought you might like to play with it, with me."

Andrew opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before any words came out.

"I think that might be fun," he said in a near-whisper, not looking at Teddy. "But you'll have to show me exactly what you mean."

Teddy grinned, relieved. "Okay. Let me grab the lube, and I will."

He'd thought about how he would do this, if Andrew proved to be interested in trying out the plug. He didn't want to be quite as teacher-y as Remus had been, lecturing about making sure everything was clean and so on, but since it was pretty obvious that Andrew hadn't experimented with such a thing before, he probably needed to do _some_ explaining... although maybe demonstrating would be enough. First things first, though. He picked up the lube.

"Okay," he said, and touched Andrew's arm. Andrew jerked a little and finally looked at Teddy again. "You'd probably rather watch me use it, right?"

Andrew licked his lips and nodded and handed Teddy the plug. Teddy leaned in to kiss him again, awkwardly since he had the plug in one hand and the lube in the other.

"I'm going to lie down," he said thickly afterward, "so it'll be easier for you to watch, yeah?"

Andrew nodded again. There were little beads of sweat around his hairline.

Teddy stretched out on the bed, his thighs spread wide, and squeezed some of the lube into his left hand, coating the plug with it. Andrew's eyes were wide as they followed the movement of the plug down until it rested against Teddy's arsehole. Teddy moved the tip of it in circles.

"It feels good--although not as good as your tongue," he added wickedly, just to see Andrew blush. "And-- _ah_ , _yeah_ ," he gasped a little as he pushed it in, about halfway. This small one was much easier to take than the one he'd used for Remus. He'd been showing off, then, and he'd been a little more sore than he'd expected afterward. He pulled the plug out, then with a series of slow thrusts, moved it deeper and deeper until the flared base was resting securely against his arsehole.

With the lube still on his left hand, Teddy stroked his cock a bit, coaxing himself to full hardness, but it was mostly desultory. It was the way he was fucking himself with the plug that had Andrew's attention.

"Help me out?"

"What do you mean?" Andrew's voice quavered.

"Here." Teddy took his right hand off the plug and reached for Andrew's, guiding it to his arse. "Move it with me."

" _Oh_." Andrew scooted forward until he could easily fuck Teddy with the plug. He rested his other hand on Teddy's thigh, and Teddy hummed his satisfaction.

"Do you do this a lot?" Andrew asked then, trailing his fingers down Teddy's thigh, then up again.

"Hmm? Oh--sometimes." Teddy shot Andrew a lazy grin. "Like to think about you while I'm doing it."

And that did it for Andrew--the blush that had begun as two pink spots in his cheeks flared to bright red, staining downwards, and Andrew choked and moved even closer, shoving Teddy's thighs apart and fucking him even harder with the plug.

"I thought this would be weird," Andrew confessed, his voice strangely breathy, "but it's not. It's brilliant."

"I could do it to you, if you wanted, later," Teddy replied, his own voice coming in gasps as he was rocked back and forth by the strength of Andrew's thrusts.

"You'd fuck me?" Andrew asked, and Teddy bit his lip and nodded. Andrew's innocent question went straight to Teddy's cock, which was now standing fully stiff and demanding that attention be paid.

"Fuck, yes, I'd fuck you," Teddy gasped. "Someday with my cock, but for now, with the plug. God, Andrew, I want to put it inside you, stretch you out and open you up for me." He wasn't sure anymore whether he was talking about opening Andrew for the plug or for his cock, but he didn't much care, either. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew they must wait to try actual, proper, cock-in-arse _sex_ , though, and it was that--and the fact that Andrew was still fucking him with the plug while fisting his own cock--that kept him from rolling over and preparing Andrew's hole for his cock.

"You look so fucking hot like this," Andrew said. Any inhibitions he'd initially had about the plug seemed to have vanished.

Teddy certainly _felt_ hot, his violet spikes mussed, a blush creeping down his chest, his eyes half-lidded and his mouth open and panting for Andrew to fuck him _harderhardermore_. He slid down the pillows, throwing his legs wide and stroking his cock out of time with Andrew's thrusts. "Faster," he begged, and Andrew sped up. Teddy wasn't even touching the plug any more, both hands on his cock and balls instead, desperate to come.

"Come on, yeah." Andrew gave an extra-firm thrust and Teddy groaned and came, his eyes locked on Andrew. The sharp smell of his spunk cut through the beer-tinged scent of sweat as pulse after pulse came from deep in his groin.

" _God_ ," Teddy choked. " _Andrew_."

Andrew smiled a little at that. He let go of the plug, leaving it buried in Teddy's arse, and leaned over to bite at Teddy's neck and ear. "Pretty far from god, I think, but thanks anyhow," he whispered as he mouthed Teddy's skin.

Now that he'd come, Teddy felt limp and lazy, but he wanted to see Andrew spread out for him, wanted to fuck him with the plug as Andrew had done for him. "That was brilliant," he said, stroking Andrew's back. "Just--hang on, let me pull it out." There was a faint pop as the plug slid out of his arse, and Teddy sighed, setting it down next to him.

"Ted?" Andrew was tracing one finger in random patterns on Teddy's chest.

"Mm? What?"

"Do you want to fuck me?" Andrew's voice was higher than usual. "I mean, not this second since you just came, but tonight?"

Teddy froze, his mind spinning in three directions at once. He managed with a great effort to speak calmly. "Are you sure?"

"I--yeah." But Andrew didn't quite meet Teddy's eyes.

"I _want_ to," said Teddy honestly, "but I think maybe we should wait. I mean, _I_ never have, and _you_ never have, and we started off too fast and regretted it, you know? I'd rather not push things again and be sorry." All of which was certainly true, but he realised also that much though he cared for Andrew--all right, _loved_ him--there was something in Teddy that wanted to have his first time be with Remus. He'd worked too hard to get his father to agree to cheat them both out of that.

Andrew seemed ready to protest, but he looked into Teddy's eyes and nodded. "No, you're right," he said. He let out a shuddering breath. "I just thought--well, it doesn't matter what I thought, because you're absolutely right. We'll make it really special, yeah?"

Teddy grinned, biting his lip. "Absolutely," he breathed, and he pulled Andrew close and kissed him, snaking a hand between their bodies to grip Andrew's cock.

"Want me to take care of this for you?" he murmured against Andrew's mouth.

Andrew nodded. "And fuck me," he whined, "with the plug. Please?"

Every single one of Remus's many admonitions about washing plugs thoroughly and not sharing toys echoed in Teddy's head for the briefest of moments, then he muttered, " _Fuck it_ ," and picked up the plug, casting a quick _Ablue_ on it. Remus would not have approved--but for the moment, Teddy didn't much care.

"It's clean," he said, holding it up and positioning himself between Andrew's legs. Looking down, he realised his belly was still spattered with his own spunk, and he swiped at it, rubbing his hand on the bedclothes.

"Okay," Andrew said, and he spread his legs a little wider, pulling at his cock. "I'm ready."

"Just--tell me if you don't like it, okay?" Teddy asked.

"I'm pretty sure I will," replied Andrew, "but yeah, you'll know if I don't." He grinned at Teddy, a grin so full of trust and--dare Teddy think it?-- _love_ that something inside Teddy melted a little.

He scooted forward and set the plug on the bed for the time being, stroking Andrew's inner thighs though everything inside him was urging him to plunge in straightaway. But Andrew hadn't any experience, really, with penetration, except with fingers, and Teddy remembered how sore he had been after his first experience with the plugs. Yes, best to take it slowly.

"Gonna lick you first," he murmured, and a grin spread over his face as Andrew groaned and writhed on the sweaty bedclothes.

"Ohgod, yes, _please_ ," Andrew babbled, lifting his knees as Teddy repeated the cleaning spell, this time on Andrew's arse, and scooted down so that he could lick Andrew's bollocks thoroughly before running his tongue along the seam behind them and back to the tight pucker that yielded to him only slowly.

It was immensely flattering to hear the incoherent sounds Andrew made as Teddy coaxed his arse to relax and allow Teddy's tongue to pleasure him. When Teddy felt that Andrew had reached a sufficient level of lust, he pulled back, wiped his mouth, and sat up again.

"Need to put the lube on," he murmured, reaching for that and the plug. "It'll be cool," he warned Andrew as he brought the well-slicked plug to Andrew's hole and slipped just the tip of it inside.

"Yeah..." Andrew's face was flushed, and Teddy realised he was holding his breath.

"Breathe," Teddy said sharply, and Andrew gasped as if he hadn't known he wasn't.

"Sorry. A little nervous," said Andrew.

"'S okay," said Teddy. He stroked around Andrew's arsehole with his fingertips, rubbing over his perineum and sliding the plug a little further in. "Tell me if it hurts," he reminded Andrew, who shook his head.

The plug slipped into Andrew's body more easily than Teddy had expected, and he stared, mesmerised, at the way Andrew's arsehole clenched at it, the way the base of it fitted against his skin. "Gorgeous," he said, almost to himself.

"Don't stop," Andrew pleaded. " _Ted_ \--"

"I won't," promised Teddy, beginning to move the plug gently, reminding himself that Andrew wasn't accustomed to this and wouldn't thank him afterward if Teddy was too rough. He imagined what it would be like to have his cock there, in that tight heat, and felt a throb of renewed lust at the idea. _Soon, ohgod, soon._

Andrew moaned and reached for his own prick, the head of it appearing and disappearing as he fisted himself. He made little greedy whining noises as Teddy fucked him, as if he wanted Teddy to move the plug faster or harder but didn't quite know how to ask for what he wanted.

And Teddy was determined not to give him what he wanted if he didn't ask for it--not out of any sadistic sort of attitude, but because he was determined not to hurt Andrew in the least.

"Fuck, Ted," Andrew gasped, jerking his cock a little faster now. Teddy could see precome dribbling from the slit already, and he knew that a few well-aimed strokes would likely send Andrew over the edge.

He pushed Andrew's knees further apart and shifted, then changed the angle of the plug just as Remus had demonstrated. Apparently he found Andrew's prostate, for Andrew let out what could only be described as a shriek, then grunted his way through his orgasm, his spunk ribboning onto his belly.

He lay there, panting, and Teddy held still between his knees, one hand still on the base of the plug, not wanting to move.

"Did--was it--" he asked finally, and Andrew reached out a hand, which Teddy gladly took, crawling up the bed to lie alongside Andrew with their bodies just touching.

Teddy nudged Andrew's toes with his own. "Brilliant, eh?"

"Fffuck," was all Andrew said for a moment, then: "Yeah. _God_ , yes. Bloody _brilliant_ , Ted. Dunno why we waited so long to try that."

Teddy laughed a little and nuzzled against Andrew's neck. His own cock had given a few interested twitches while he was fucking Andrew with the plug, but now it lay flaccid and quiet against his thigh. "We can do it a lot more, then, since you liked it," he said.

Andrew shifted. "I want it to be your cock, still, someday, though," he said.

"It will be," Teddy promised, and he gave Andrew a quick kiss. "Um," he said, and he coughed, "do you maybe want some help getting that out?"

"I think I can manage it," said Andrew with a somewhat embarrassed smile. He reached between his legs and grimaced a bit as he pulled the plug out. "Where should I put this?"

"Here." Teddy took it from him and put it on the nightstand by the bed. "I'll clean it later. That's something, though--I just used a charm to clean it for you, but really it should be soap and water and it's better not to share plugs if you can. I mean, for us it's probably not a big deal 'cause neither of us has any weird diseases, right, but it's a good habit." He realised he was rabbiting on and stopped.

"How do you _learn_ all this stuff?" Andrew asked. "You're younger than me and I didn't think you'd been with _that_ many blokes." There was an edge of hurt in his voice.

"No," Teddy protested. _Fuck._ Now what was he going to say? "I read about it."

"What kind of books tell you that?" Andrew sounded sceptical.

"Books my dad has." Teddy flushed. "I found his collection of dirty books," which was true enough, although he'd "found" them by having Remus show them to him, "and there were some that were more medical-type books than just porny stuff. He said I could borrow some if I wanted. Would you like to see? I only brought a couple of the good ones home."

Andrew rolled onto his side to face Teddy. "You really are serious about this whole gay thing, aren't you?"

"Well, yeah. I was a Hufflepuff, remember? We work hard at whatever we're doing." Teddy nudged Andrew. "You, former Ravenclaw, ought to be keen to see the books yourself."

Biting his lip, Andrew said, "Yeah, I guess I am. Are they Wizarding books or Muggle ones?"

"Two wizard, one Muggle, is what I have here. The pictures have a lot of different things in them and I wouldn't want to try everything, mind you." Teddy had to sit up to reach for the little stack of books, making sure that he'd wiped all the spunk off his legs and belly before resting the pile on his lap. "Come sit up here with me, I'll show you."

It was strange, certainly, to be the teacher instead of the student, for once. Teddy and Andrew propped the pillows up behind themselves and sat against the headboard. Teddy considered putting an arm about Andrew, as Remus had so often done to him, but then thought that might feel a bit awkward.

He picked up the first of the three books; it was the Muggle one. "I haven't looked at all the pictures," he confessed, "but a fair few of them. There are some things in here that are definitely a bit weird, but, um, if there's anything you'd like to try..." He trailed off as Andrew opened the book and turned to the first picture in it.

"Buggering hell," Andrew breathed, "That's, um..."

"Isn't it?" Teddy was duly impressed--he must have missed this first picture, somehow, when he'd looked at the books with Remus and, later, on his own. It was just two boys--young men, really--kissing. That's all they were doing, but their naked bodies pressed together filled the frame of the photograph, and the play of light and shadow on their skin was nothing short of beautiful.

"Beautiful, almost," said Andrew, echoing Teddy's thoughts, "although I feel strange saying that about a couple of men."

Teddy shrugged. "I dunno," he said, "I guess we're allowed to find men beautiful--though, yeah, it does seem strange to say it. But I think that's the only word for it."

"Mm." Andrew stared at the picture for a moment longer. "Kissing we've done, though," he said. "I want to see some of this strange stuff you've been talking about."

The book was arty, with a number of the photographs in black and white, and of course being Muggle they didn't move, but nevertheless Teddy found his throat getting dry and his blood racing as they looked at images of men entwined in all sorts of positions, doing all sorts of things that they clearly enjoyed very much, sometimes with the aid of various props and equipment.

"Ouch," shivered Andrew, putting a gentle finger against a photograph that was a close-up of a man's nipple caught in a clamp very like the ones Remus had. "Don't know that I'd fancy that."

"I might," said Teddy. He felt his cheeks heat when Andrew looked at him. "I like it when you bite me there, or pinch hard. There's a shop I know of--maybe sometime I'll get clamps like that, if you'd put them on me?"

"You'd want me to do that do you?" Andrew's eyes were dilated, dark under his blond fringe, and Teddy wasn't sure if Andrew was excited or repulsed until he said, "You'd look so hot."

Teddy squeezed Andrew's hand and said breathlessly, his imagination racing, "We could go to Charon again, and after I bought them I could wear them under my clothes, so you'd know they were there." If the clamps weren't too tight, he thought he could handle it.

"Oh, _god_ , Ted." Andrew swallowed. "Um. Maybe." He turned the page.

It was another arty photograph, of a man tied up in ropes in an elaborate pattern, half-turned away from the camera. The pose emphasised the elegance of the bindings. A brief caption explained that this was an example of _shibari_ , Japanese rope bondage.

"Not keen on that one, though," said Teddy. "Looks like more trouble than it's worth."

"Nothing that complicated," Andrew agreed, flipping through the next few pages and stopping at one that was a much simpler kind of bondage, in which one man leaned against a pillar, his hands and feet secured to it, while his partner teased his cock. "Now _this_ , this is much more interesting, don't you think?"

"Which one of them would you see yourself as?" Teddy asked. "The one tied up?"

"Oh, no," sighed Andrew, " _You_. I think I'd like to see you like that." He fidgeted, pressing his hip against Teddy's, and Teddy was racked with a sudden shudder.

"If you'd like it, I mean," Andrew amended, and Teddy turned and pressed a long kiss to Andrew's neck.

"I think I would," he murmured against the sweat-damp skin.

Andrew didn't need to know that Teddy had already been tied up--not as restrained as the man in the picture in the book, of course, but somehow Teddy knew he'd like having that done to him. When Remus had decided to leave Teddy's ankles unbound, Teddy had felt almost incomplete.

"I would _definitely_ like that," he decided aloud, looking at the picture again, and Andrew reached over to stroke the softly curling hairs at Teddy's neck.

"Brilliant," he said. "We could definitely try it sometime, then." He turned to take in the headboard of the bed with its knobbly posts just right for affixing scarves or cuffs or ropes, then turned back to Teddy. "Maybe even, um, on the bed?"

Teddy nodded frantically. Though he'd recently come, he felt his cock twitch as if it were trying to come back to life. "Definitely," he said, and the two of them stared at the picture a moment longer.

Finally, Andrew shook himself and turned the page. A man was spread over a table, another man having just brought some sort of whip down on his already reddened backside--only the whip was comprised of several short leather straps attached to a thick handle. Teddy recalled seeing those when he'd gone to Prowler with his dad, but they'd looked a bit scary and he hadn't thought to see what they were called. Now that he'd discovered he liked a bit of roughness during sex, though, he was intrigued by the idea.

"No _way_ ," said Andrew, and he made to turn the page again immediately. Teddy moved his hand to stop him, then checked the movement--he wasn't going to push Andrew into doing something he maybe wasn't comfortable with, and besides, Teddy wasn't _entirely_ sure he was fond of the idea. He was just intrigued by it. And maybe it was something they could talk about another time.

When they had paged past a number of other photographs--some of which intrigued Teddy, some which Andrew was more interested in, and several which made them both stop and stare--Andrew finally closed the book and let out a long, shuddering breath.

"So now I know where you got all these ideas," he said, putting the book aside and putting his arms about Teddy.

Teddy kissed him soundly, embracing him, then nodded. "And just think--there're two more books here that we can look at, and a ton more at my dad's house."

"I feel a bit weird borrowing your dad's books--" Andrew began, but Teddy cut him off.

"He doesn't mind. Really. After he realised I'd found them, he's the one who suggested I borrow whichever ones I liked."

Andrew gave a choked kind of laugh into Teddy's shoulder. "Do you even know how lucky you are to have a dad like that?"

"Yeah, I do." Teddy moved his lips over Andrew's skin. "He's not perfect, mind you, and he'd be the first to say that. Plus, you know, being a werewolf--I found out recently that he nearly lost custody of me after my mum died. Though maybe that's partly why he's been so accepting of me being queer."

"He is himself," Andrew pointed out, "or he wouldn't even own the books."

"True. I _am_ lucky, I know, to have a dad who's not just okay with it, but knows exactly what it's like and is helpful." Although Teddy hoped Andrew would never know just how helpful Remus had been. He held Andrew a little tighter, letting his hand drift along Andrew's back soothingly. "If you wanted to talk to him about, well, anything, I expect he'd be happy to."

"He used to be a professor at Hogwarts, didn't he? I bet he was a good teacher, from what I saw of him over Christmas."

"He taught there just one year. Defence Against the Dark Arts. Harry always says my dad was the best Defence teacher he ever had, but Harry's biased and from what I hear the others who taught that class while he was there were pretty much all rubbish. Well, Snape might have known his stuff, but he was a crap teacher, even Aunt Hermione says so."

"I can't get over the way you know all these famous people. Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley..." Andrew's voice trailed off. "You talk about them as if they were ordinary."

"Come on. You met them, and besides, you should know that being famous doesn't make people different--you play professional Quidditch, you were even photographed for that calendar." Teddy grinned and nudged Andrew. "When you're on the regular team, not just the reserves, are _you_ going to change?"

"Probably not," admitted Andrew. He chuckled a little. "Did you know that your dad was sneaking looks at your calendar, before you brought it up to your room?"

" _Really_?" Teddy was torn between amusement and consternation. "I guess he couldn't look properly before he bought it, it was done up in plastic film. He should've bought one for himself."

"I'm glad he didn't. I like your dad but I don't fancy him having a picture of me on his wall, not one in which I'm only wearing a Quaffle in a strategic location anyhow," Andrew said. "It doesn't bother me to have strangers looking at that--they're mostly girls anyway who buy the calendar, and I don't care about them at all--nor you, but him, no."

"Why?" asked Teddy, trying to keep the edge of defence out of his voice. "Because he's older?"

"No," Andrew replied, "Because he's _your dad_. I mean, it's really great that he lent you the books, and talks to you about all sorts of, um, gay stuff, but that's just a little close for comfort." Andrew looked hopefully at Teddy.

Teddy nodded and shrugged. "I guess I see what you mean," he said, and he _did_ , but he was still feeling slightly defensive about his dad. He wondered briefly if he was feeling that way because of what he'd _done_ with his dad, then pushed that thought right out of his head.

"Anyway," he continued, "when he was sneaking looks at the calendar, he was probably just seeing if you were really as fit as what I'd said." He suppressed laughter as Andrew's eyes went wide.

"You didn't say--what did you _say_ to him?" Andrew's voice squeaked, and Teddy let his laughter out.

"I _didn't_ ," he said, letting Andrew off the hook. "I swear, I didn't say anything like that to him." He grabbed Andrew around his waist and the two of them engaged is a brief mock-wrestling match, with Andrew declaring victory as he pinned Teddy to the bed by his wrists.

"That's for making me think you talked about my body with your dad," he said, grinning, and Teddy wriggled a bit underneath him.

"Careful," he said with a grin, "I just might like this sort of thing."

Andrew waggled his eyebrows at Teddy, then grinned. "Pervert."

"You're the one who wanted to tie me up and do all sorts of depraved things to me," Teddy retorted, struggling a bit harder--but not _too_ hard; he didn't _really_ want to escape--against Andrew's hold on him.

"I guess we're both perverts, then," Andrew said, and, without warning, he collapsed upon Teddy.

When Teddy had regained his breath, he kissed Andrew and kicked him at the same time. "I don't mind being a pervert with you," he said, and he kicked him again for good measure. "Just don't collapse on me like that."

He didn't think about the _other_ man he'd been a pervert with.  



	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam takes Remus shopping.

"Would you like to go to the south of France with me next month?" was the unexpected, and muffled, question out of Sam's mouth as he pulled his jumper off over his head.

Remus was spending Saturday night at Sam's flat. They'd gone out to see a Muggle film in a cinema that showed only older films; Sam had quite enjoyed it, but Remus identified a little too closely with the young teacher whose student tried to seduce him to be entirely comfortable.

"When exactly?" Remus hedged.

"I was thinking the next to last or last week of February. No full moon then," said Sam with a grin. "See, I checked."

"What brings this on?" asked Remus, climbing into bed beside Sam and brushing one greying lock back from where it was falling across Sam's face. "Do you have a meeting there or something?"

"No, I just want to take a holiday with you." Sam pressed his cold nose against Remus's cheek, making Remus shiver partly from the mere feel of it, and partly because Sirius had used to do exactly the same thing, both in human form and as Padfoot. "My treat. I want to go somewhere warmer for a bit, but I don't want to go by myself, so you'd be doing me a favour."

He had just neatly undercut Remus's first objection. Not that he couldn't afford a holiday if he wanted one, but it always seemed wasteful to go somewhere extravagant. Teddy might be out of Hogwarts but Remus wasn't accustomed to the extra money yet, and it wasn't really that much since Teddy's grandmother Andromeda had always helped to pay his school expenses.

"I'll have to see if I can get the time off," he said. "Usually we're supposed to put in for holidays further in advance than this, but February's not all that busy a time at the bookshop."

"Good." His nose now warm, Sam kissed Remus's cheek, and then his lips travelled over to find Remus's own. "It might even be warm enough for some sea-bathing."

"Mm." Remus kissed Sam back, thinking that if he was supposed to wear swim trunks in February, even in southern France, he'd need to practise up on his warming charms and perhaps one to disguise his scars as well. He didn't enjoy being stared at and whispered about. He thought about the dates; the eleventh was the next full moon, and that was a Saturday. If he was going to go away with Sam for a week or so, it would be good to have the last lesson with Teddy before then... which meant next weekend.

"If we ever leave our room, that is," Sam amended, licking a stripe up Remus's neck.

Remus laughed and swatted Sam away. "I've a feeling we're both a _little_ too old for that," he said, "and besides, I haven't been away in ages. I'm going to make you take me out for a proper fancy dinner." He wasn't completely comfortable demanding such things, but he knew that Sam liked it when Remus allowed Sam to take care of him. And Remus would probably rather have eaten all their meals in corner brasseries, but it had been a while--well, since the afternoon of the Portree game--since Remus had been to a fancy restaurant.

"Bloody right I will," replied Sam, curling his body against Remus's. "And then you can pay me back... _later_." He licked Remus's neck again.

"Bloody right I will," mimicked Remus, turning over to kiss Sam. "Seriously, Sam, this means a lot to me."

"I love you," Sam said simply, and Remus repeated Sam's words again, though his throat was thick as he did so.

"So very much," he added, and they drifted off to sleep in each other's arms.

In the morning, Remus's first thought was of Teddy, though Sam was beside him, warm and sprawled and snoring. In between the thoughts of holiday and the I Love Yous, he'd forgotten to tell Sam that he'd be spending the upcoming weekend with Teddy. No matter--he could tell Sam over breakfast.

But first, he had to wake Sam up.

And Remus had a good idea of how to do just that.

He eased the covers from Sam's sleeping form, exposing Sam's morning erection trapped beneath another pair of pants he'd borrowed from Remus's drawer, then lifted the t-shirt Sam wore and kissed his belly.

"Morning," he murmured, and Sam groaned and shifted in his sleep. Remus kissed his belly again, then moved further south to lay a trail of kisses along the band of the borrowed pants.

"These are mine, you know," said Remus with a smile, loving the casual intimacy of the fact. He eased the pants down, and from the sounds Sam was now making, Remus could tell that Sam was slowly drifting towards the surface of wakefulness.

"I think you should give them back," he added, carefully tugging them further down Sam's thighs and nuzzling at the newly-exposed flesh.

Still half-asleep, Sam stretched and moved, mumbling something incomprehensible.

"If you don't, I won't be able to wash them so you can borrow them again," Remus whispered into the damp curls. "And that would be a shame, wouldn't it?"

His fingers grazed Sam's bollocks, cupping around the warm weight of them, and he pressed his lips against the spot where they joined Sam's prick, tasting the salt and musk of Sam's skin.

Sam groaned again, louder, and murmured, "Remus?"

In reply, Remus licked a broad wet stripe from the base of Sam's cock to the tip, where droplets were already oozing from the slit, then closed his mouth around the head and suckled gently, his tongue sliding across the ridge of foreskin just below.

"God, _Remus_." Sam put his hand on Remus's head, stroking his hair.

Remus took Sam's cock further into his throat, wanting nothing more than to make Sam understand how much Remus loved him, desired him, needed him. With one finger he reached down to tease Sam's hole.

A choked moan and a wriggle from Sam decided Remus to leave Sam's cock for the moment, urging him to roll over so that Remus could whisper a quick _Ablue_ and plunge his tongue into the greedy orifice instead. Sam responded immediately, begging Remus to lick deeper, suck harder, yes, _more_ , in a stream of broken words.

Remus did, fucking Sam's arse with his tongue as hard and deep and rough as he could until his jaw began to ache and he was almost dizzy from lack of breath.

"I'm going to fuck you now, Sam," he growled as he pulled his face away. "Do you want that? Do you?" He fumbled for the bottle of lube which had rolled behind a book on the night stand.

"Fucking hell," was all Sam said, and he thrust his arse up into the air, presenting himself to Remus.

Remus slathered the lube liberally on his prick and on Sam's hole, then positioned himself between Sam's thighs and pressed forward, millimetres at a time, until he was sheathed inside Sam's tight channel.

" _Fuck me_ ," Sam moaned then, and Remus did, slowly at first, letting them both get used to the feeling, then faster, deeper, gripping Sam's hips tightly.

Remus bent to kiss Sam's sweaty back where his shirt was rucked up. "Touch yourself for me," he whispered against Sam's skin, and Sam nodded.

"Already am," he said, " _God_ , Remus."

Not another word was exchanged between them until Remus choked out Sam's name as his orgasm approached. He thrust hard into Sam, and his climax crashed over him like waves. He let out a noise somewhere between a groan and a howl as he filled Sam with his hot release, then slowed his thrusts, finally stilling inside of Sam.

"Stay--in--" Sam grunted, and Remus knew he was close to coming, himself. He left his softening cock where it was and hugged Sam as best he could from his awkward position.

"Come for me," he whispered, and Sam nodded and grunted and groaned and finally came, swearing, babbling, and then he collapsed.

Remus collapsed on top of him, his cock slipping from its sheath in Sam's arse.

"Morning," he finally said when his breathing had returned to normal.

"And a bloody good one at that," added Sam. He shifted under Remus and Remus rolled off him. Sam turned over and they kissed, twice, and Remus smiled.

"Liked that, did you?"

"If I could wake up that way every morning for the next hundred years, I'd be the luckiest man who ever lived," Sam replied. "Of course," he went on, "Sometimes I think I already am."

"Go _on_ ," said Remus, rolling his eyes, but he was smiling, too.

"I take it back." Sam said. He paused. "I _know_ I already am."

"Oh, Sam." Remus's heart melted at Sam's willingness to be so open about his emotions. "I'm just as lucky, to have someone like you."

Sam pressed a kiss on Remus's nose. "I guess we're both pretty fortunate we found each other, huh? So. You'll check with your manager about taking a week off at the end of February, and then I'll arrange our travel and hotel for when you're off."

"That sounds lovely," said Remus. "But before we go, before the full moon--next weekend in fact--I think I'd better plan to spend a day just with Ted, a father-son day. Sunday, probably, since I think he's still working some Saturdays."

"Why?" Sam asked, idly running a hand over Remus's chest, his fingers gentle on the scarred flesh. "He's a big boy now, living on his own."

 _Average, not big._ The words flashed through Remus's mind and he stifled a somewhat hysterical chuckle. "I know. And maybe he'll already have plans. I just feel that I want to be sure he's doing all right before I leave the country." Now he allowed himself to smile. "Overprotective fathering, I suppose. I feel extra-responsible since I'm the only parent he has."

"Mm." Sam kept touching Remus, not trying to arouse him again, which was probably impossible so soon, just being close. "Seems unnecessary to me, but it's your call."

"Thanks, Sam." Remus kissed him. "I worry about Ted probably more than I should. He seems happy with having realised that he likes men, and he's pretty clearly in love with Andrew... but Andrew frets me a bit."

"Andrew? Why, because of his family situation?" Sam's voice was unnaturally calm, doubtless remembering his own problems in that area.

Remus nodded. "Partly, but more because it seems to have left Andrew feeling that he's wrong to prefer men. I don't want Teddy to pick up that kind of self-denigrating attitude. If I talk to him about it a little... I don't know. I'd like to think that Teddy is too sensible and sure of himself to fall into that trap, but he's still very young, and if something bad happened..."

"Like what?" asked Sam.

"Oh, I don't know. If there were some incident that made it into the papers, even if it didn't happen to him." Remus remembered news stories of men beaten, even killed, for their sexuality. "I know it's not nearly so common as it once was, but still."

Sam flopped onto his back and shoved his hands into his hair. "That stuff's pretty scary, yeah," he said. He opened his mouth as if to say more, then shut it again and said nothing.

"It is," said Remus, "and I just want to make sure--I don't know, make sure Teddy knows, really _knows_ that he's right to love whomever he wants to love."

 _Like you?_ his mind asked him, and Remus mentally scowled at the thought, sending it scampering back to wherever it had come from. He didn't really have those confusing feelings anymore, of course, but sometimes it seemed the back of his brain wanted him to keep having them.

Remus stretched and groaned and slipped out of bed.

"Come on," he said, "let's have some breakfast and get cleaned up."

Sam stayed in bed a moment longer, then he, too, gave a grunt and a stretch and got up. "Maybe later we can go shopping," he said. "Find you something nice to wear when we're on holiday."

Remus considered this. "If we go into London, perhaps you can make good on that I.O.U. you gave me for Christmas," he said with a suggestive wink.

Sam waggled his eyebrows in return. "Do you know a place?"

"I do," said Remus, "and don't worry--it's Muggle. We shouldn't run into anyone there that we know."

Sam thought that this was a capital idea, and so the two of them ate and showered and dressed (Remus dashed off a quick note to Teddy while Sam was showering, planning to post it on the way) and were headed into the city within the span of an hour.

"Here we are," said Remus as they approached Prowler. They'd decided to get this over with first, as Sam was still a little apprehensive about being seen--and Remus didn't blame him, for he'd seen the way Sam's old fans acted sometimes. Sam shook his hair into his face and affected a slouch as they walked in the door, but once they were inside and he'd got a good look around, it seemed he forgot to disguise himself, shoving his hair back and gazing around.

Remus chuckled to himself. Sam was like a kid in a sweet shop, and Remus was going to reap the benefits of his enthusiasm. He could certainly live with that.

"Is there anything in particular you fancy?" Remus asked in a low tone.

" _You_ get to choose the toy," Sam reminded him.

"I know, but I want to be sure it's not something you would really dislike," said Remus. "And you know I already own a few things along this line."

"I'm going to need to look for a while," Sam said. "I don't really know what the possibilities are." His eager expression made him look surprisingly young, although not like the actual young Stubby Boardman, who had always affected an aura of nonchalance.

"Sure. Want to browse by yourself, or together?"

"Together." Sam squeezed Remus's hand. "You can explain things to me if I need."

They started off looking at some of the plugs and dildos. Sam was intrigued by an extremely long, flexible, double-headed dildo, which they could both use at once. Remus was less enthusiastic about it, thinking that it might be difficult to use effectively. He also pointed out that plugs weren't good for sharing, which had been one of the stipulations of Sam's I.O.U. Sam nodded.

"Point taken... although there's nothing to say I can't buy you your Christmas gift, and get a few other things as well." He flashed a provocative smile.

Remus smiled back. "True enough, and I wouldn't discourage that at all. But let's look at some of the other things they have here."

The Muggle films on disc were useless, as neither of them owned a device for playing them, so they skipped that section of the store entirely and went on to other toys.

"You'd look elegant in these," Remus suggested, pointing to a set that included a pair of nipple clamps, a cock ring, and chains to connect all of them, all in polished steel.

Sam's eyes widened and he swallowed hard. "Do you think so?" he asked.

Remus cast a glance around, then moved close and gave Sam a quick kiss. It wouldn't do to be any more affectionate than that, lest the shop employees think they were getting frisky.

"I do," he replied, "and, if you're willing, I'd like to try them on you."

Sam nodded slowly and took the package down from its hook. "And I suppose I could try them on you as well," he said, examining them.

"Oh, absolutely," replied Remus. "A bit of a tweak on the nipples is nice--you might not think so at first, but you know I don't like pain during sex, and these, I _do_ like. So they're not as painful as you're probably standing there thinking." He didn't want to push, but his mind had conjured up visions of Sam dressed only in steel, and he had to swallow hard and will himself not to get aroused in public by the very idea.

"And the ring?" Sam asked.

"Will keep you harder, longer," Remus replied, "and doesn't every man want that?"

Sam cocked his head and grinned. "You've got me there," he said. "All right. Let's get this--it'll be fun experimenting with you."

Satisfaction swelled inside Remus, and he took Sam's free hand and gave it a squeeze. "I promise you won't be disappointed," he said. "I look forward to seeing these on you."

They shopped a bit more after that--Sam chose a set of plugs for himself, and Remus noted with a pang that it was the same set he'd purchased for Teddy.

"Those are an excellent choice," he told Sam. He should know.

They also stocked up on lube, and then Sam wanted to look at the magazines, but he'd forgotten they were in a Muggle shop and was disappointed when none of the pictures moved.

"You'll have to make do with the books I already own," Remus whispered for Sam's ears only. There were several Muggles nearby and the idea of moving images in books was something they didn't need to let out.

"Mm. Yes, I'd forgotten those," Sam said. "Anything else?"

Remus shook his head. "Nothing I can think of right now. We can always come back another time."

As they were standing in the queue to pay, talking about nothing in particular, over Sam's shoulder Remus saw the shop door open and a familiar figure walk in, followed by another. He froze. Luckily Sam was saying something about one of his music pupils and didn't notice Remus's consternation, and since he was facing away from the door he didn't see that Teddy and Andrew had come in.

Teddy glanced casually around; Remus could see it when he spotted his father near the till, because he took Andrew's elbow and hurried him away to a far corner.

 _Bugger._ Remus was profoundly relieved that Teddy seemed just as reluctant to greet his father in this shop as Remus was to run into Teddy. What an appalling coincidence of timing. He was on tenterhooks until Sam had paid and they were out and walking down the street, their purchases concealed in a discreet bag.

Should he mention it to Sam? Probably not. Sam had been so concerned about having anyone he knew see him--and moreover he might be curious about how Teddy happened to know of the same sex shop that Remus patronised.

"Shall we go to Diagon Alley for that 'something nice to wear on holiday' you were talking about?" he asked Sam instead, wanting to get as far from Prowler as quickly as possible.

"Probably not," Sam disagreed. "We're likely to be in a Muggle area at least part of the time, so Muggle clothing would be more suitable than Wizarding robes." He grinned at Remus mischievously. "Although someday I wouldn't mind seeing you in truly traditional formal Wizarding garb."

Remus swallowed, flushing slightly. Like the Scots kilt, the formal robe was worn without underclothing. "If you pick the right place for our holiday, you could see me with nothing at all," he pointed out.

"Ah, but it's more fun the other way. Total nakedness is far less titillating," said Sam, and Remus had to agree with him.

They made their way down the street, passing another couple of sex shops and a cafe.

"Should we head another direction?" Sam asked, but Remus shook his head. He'd got lost the first time he went to Prowler, and he thought he remembered there being some clothiers in the area.

"I think there are a couple of mens' shops this way," he replied. They walked a bit farther, and soon the shops that Remus only vaguely remembered came into view.

When they approached the shops, however, Remus began having second thoughts about letting Sam purchase an outfit for him for their holiday. He could tell just by the window displays that a shirt there would cost a week's salary.

He tugged at Sam's arm. "Let's find another spot."

Sam feigned (Remus was fairly sure) reluctance, but finally they headed for the tube station.

"Where're we going now?" Remus asked once they were on the tube, closing his eyes against the motion which was making him slightly sick.

Sam only shrugged. "I have an idea," he said.

It turned out that Sam didn't know London as well as he pretended he did, and by the time they found the shop Sam had been thinking of--which turned out to be closed when they got there--Remus was tired, grumpy, and _starving_. He did _try_ not to snipe at Sam, but he had a dislike for shopping even on a good day--he thought it might come from his working in a shop--and when _tired_ and _hungry_ were added to the mix, he was fairly certain he wasn't pleasant to be around.

He insisted they stop for a late lunch, in a little pub that looked all right, if somewhat dingy. His order of shepherd's pie and a pint of bitter did much to restore his previous good mood, and when he and Sam set out again to find another Muggle menswear shop, he took Sam's hand and squeezed it in a silent apology.

They finally found a shop that suited Sam's taste and Remus's budget-mindedness, and Sam chose armfuls of things for Remus to try on. Remus picked out a few things for himself, too, and he pointedly ignored the salesgirl's stare when Sam entered the fitting room with him.

"Try these." Sam held up a pair of lightweight trousers in a rich camel colour. "Maybe with that red shirt."

Privately Remus thought the red shirt far too bright for a man of his age, but he acquiesced. The fitting room wasn't very large, and Sam was sitting on the only seat, so he piled his own clothes on Sam's lap as he took them off. Sam patted his bum as Remus turned around to reach for the shirt on its hanger.

"Now, Sam," Remus said.

Sam gave him an innocent look. "Just enjoying the view."

"Ha. Wait till there's something _to_ view," said Remus. "We don't want to get tossed out of here."

Quickly he slipped on the outfit. Against his winter-pale skin the red shirt was too harsh, as he'd expected. The trousers, on the other hand, fit beautifully except that the legs were a couple of inches too long. Sam spotted that too.

"They can be hemmed up," he pointed out. "Turn around."

Remus rotated in the small space, twisting his head and looking in the mirror as he did so. He had to admit that the trousers were quite flattering--tight enough to show off the fact that he was still in reasonably good shape for a man his age, but not so tight that he looked like he was trying to recapture his youth. "I like these."

"Put them aside, then, as a possibility at least, and try the next." Sam reached for Remus's hand.

"Can't do anything if you hold my hand like that," said Remus softly, but he leaned down and gave Sam a quick kiss before disengaging his fingers and unzipping the camel trousers, hanging them up again neatly and hooking the hanger over the top of the door to keep them separate from the as-yet-untried clothes.

None of the next few things he put on was as good as the trousers, and the rejected pile grew quickly. He did find a deep blue polo shirt that he liked, and it went up next to the trousers on the door. He was standing in his pants and socks alone, trying to decide what he would try on next, when Sam stroked his bare thigh.

"You stop that," he whispered at Sam, but he grinned, and Sam grinned back, raising his eyebrows in an expression of feigned innocence.

"Stop what?" he asked, and he drew his wand.

"Oh, no, you don't," said Remus, but it was too late--by the time he'd finished protesting, Sam had cast a silencing charm on their dressing room, protecting them from outside ears.

"Just a quick one," Sam said aloud, "I just can't resist when I'm at the perfect level to do... _this_." He grabbed the front of Remus's pants and yanked him forward, his face at Remus's crotch level. He made quick work of extracting Remus's cock and sucking it to hardness, and Remus scrabbled at the walls for something to hold on to, finally settling on a hook attached to the wall, fisting his other hand in Sam's shaggy hair.

"We--really--shouldn't--" he gasped, but he was hard in Sam's mouth by then, and his protests were weak. "They'll notice--if we're--oh, fuck--in here too long-- _Sam_!"

Sam removed his mouth from Remus's cock long enough to say, "Well, you'd better come quickly, then."

Remus groaned at this and gained a better hold on both the hook and on Sam's hair, thrusting as best he could in the small space of the fitting room. Sam began teasing Remus's bollocks, and Remus gave a sharp cry and thrust forward hard--he was so close.

A minute or two more of sucking and teasing, and Remus was spilling himself down Sam's throat, his head flung back, the fact of where they were completely forgotten in his ecstasy.

Remus slumped forward, bracing himself against the wall. Sam gave a smug, satisfied smile and tucked Remus back into his pants, then pulled him down for a deep kiss--Remus could taste himself in Sam's mouth.

"Do you want me to--" he panted, gesturing at Sam's crotch.

Sam raised his eyebrows. "Not now. Maybe in the next shop." He shot Remus the wickedest grin Remus had ever seen on him, almost a match for Sirius, and Remus nodded, biting his lip and shaking his head.

"You're terrible," he whispered, cautious although the silencing spell was still in effect.

"I may be," replied Sam, "but you're worse, letting me suck you like that right here in public. Tsk-tsk." He shook his head in mock-disappointment, and Remus laughed. "Now, come on," Sam continued. "We don't want the shopgirl to wonder what we've been doing in here for so long."

"Oh, _you_." Remus cuffed Sam's shoulder. "I think I'll just go with the camel trousers and the blue shirt. Those'll do."

"All right. Give them to me and I'll pay while you get dressed again." Sam tossed Remus his clothes, took the hangers with what Remus had chosen down, and slipped out.

"I figured you know someone who can hem the trousers shorter for you," said Sam as they strolled down the street, glancing into other shop windows. "They didn't offer that service."

"Actually, I don't, but I'm sure I can find out." Remus shrugged and smiled.

Sam stopped short. Remus thought he might be shocked that Remus didn't even know of a tailor or seamstress, but no, Sam was tugging at his elbow, guiding him into a tiny shop.

"Um, Sam, this is a jewellery store," Remus whispered.

"No, really? Don't tell me, the diamonds and gold in glass cases gave it away." Sam rolled his eyes. "I said I was going to buy you something nice to wear; I didn't say it was going to be clothing."

"You already _did_ buy me something nice to wear." Remus glanced around, happy to see that the clerk was busy with another customer, and merely waved a hand to show he'd seen them enter. "Honestly, Sam, that's enough."

"Do you like gold, silver, or platinum?" Sam was ignoring Remus's protests, leaning over a case full of tiepins and cufflinks.

"Gold," said Remus automatically.

"Pearls? Diamonds? Rubies?"

"Emeralds, actually, but Sam. Listen to me. No. It's too much." Remus shifted the bag with his clothes to his other hand and grabbed Sam's wrist. "I mean that. I don't want you to buy me a tiepin, or whatever. I don't need it, and I don't want you to feel like you need to do this. Please."

"I don't feel like I _need_ to do this," said Sam, bending close. "I _want_ to do it."

"Still--" Remus protested. He knew he'd never wear such an impractical, expensive thing, and besides that, he wasn't entirely sure he _deserved_ something like that.

"It's all right," said Sam, and he took Remus's hand. "Just look at the shiny things with me for a moment, won't you?"

Remus acquiesced and stayed by Sam's side as Sam perused the case of tiepins and cufflinks, skipped over a case of watches, then hovered over a case of men's rings for the barest second.

The clerk had finished with his customer and was making his way towards them; Sam waved him off when he was still a few feet away and took Remus's elbow, steering him towards the door.

"We can go," he said. "I apologise if I made you feel uncomfortable. Just a whim of mine."

"It's all right," replied Remus in subdued tones. When Sam had glanced at that case of rings, Remus had grown even more discomfited, squirming in his shoes.

"Except that it was a whim with genuine sentiment behind it, and I want you to know that. I want you to know how much you mean to me," Sam said then.

"I do know, already," said Remus as they walked down the street together. "You don't have to buy me things to prove it."

Sam shrugged. "I wouldn't be the first man who couldn't express his feelings in words," he said, "and I doubt I'll be the last."

Appropriately, Remus couldn't think of anything to say to this, so they walked in companionable silence a bit longer, until they got to the tube station.

"You're still going to join me on that holiday, aren't you?" asked Sam as they were swallowed by the crowd.

Remus rolled his eyes, smiling. "Of course I am."

"That's settled, then," said Sam, stepping onto the train. "Now, shall we have something to eat before we head back home?"

The way that Sam said _home_ sent a warm glow through Remus, and he smiled at Sam and took his hand, not caring who might see.

"Sounds good. I hadn't planned anything in particular for tonight yet anyhow."

He thought about Sam, and Sam's casual reference to _home_ not meaning necessarily either his flat or Remus's house, just wherever they went together, as they stopped at an Italian restaurant Sam knew. He thought about how good it felt to have someone he cared for, who cared for him, around to be with, not just for special occasions but every day. He thought that maybe next month in France, he'd bring up the idea of actually moving in together. He wasn't sure if he'd be willing to give up his house, with all its memories of Teddy growing up, but they could talk about it if Sam preferred to find a new place for the two of them.

When the wine Sam had ordered arrived, Remus touched Sam's glass with his own. "To us."

"To us." Sam gave him a happy smile and drank.

Glancing around to make sure no one was close enough to hear, Remus leaned forward and murmured, "I never did return the favour you did me in that dressing room, but I'm afraid that crouching under the table here would be a bit too obvious. Too bad we're sitting across from each other; I'd like to put my hand down the front of your trousers, see if I could make you come right here."

" _Remus._ " Sam nearly choked on his wine. Spots of red appeared on his high cheekbones, but his breathing could only have quickened with desire, not embarrassment.

"The tablecloth is long enough to hide that sort of thing." Remus kept talking, his voice low. "I'd unzip you, first, let that gorgeous cock of yours free. You'd feel the fabric of the tablecloth brush over you, the air moving a little in the space under the table if the waiter happened to walk by. I'd run my fingers along your cock until you were hard, and then I'd play with your balls, although it would be difficult since they'd still be trapped in your pants."

Sam's hand had disappeared into his lap. Remus wasn't sure if he was trying to repress an erection, or if he was doing to himself some of the things Remus was describing.

"I'd run my thumb over the head of your cock. The skin there is so soft. Then I'd casually raise my hand and lick my thumb so that I could taste you," said Remus.

He heard Sam whimper, very quietly. The waiter was returning with the antipasto plate they had ordered as a starter, and Remus stopped speaking while he set it down.

"Will there be anything else I can bring you right now, gentlemen?" the waiter asked, and Remus shook his head, smiling innocently.

"We're quite happy, thanks," he replied, and the waiter nodded and left. Remus turned his attention back to Sam.

"Don't," said Sam, his cheeks flushed, his mouth hanging open a little. He leaned forward and plucked an olive from the antipasto platter. "I don't want to have to make a mess of this nice tablecloth... or drag you into the gents' and make you fuck me before the first plate arrives." He popped the olive into his mouth and chewed, his gaze locked on Remus's.

Remus smirked. "Just paying you back for that surprise you gave me in the fitting room," he said. "But if you're not up for it right now, I'm afraid I'm going to have to take you the moment we get home." He was still speaking in a low voice, leaning forward across the table, and he picked up a pepperoncini and sucked on it before putting it fully into his mouth.

Sam quirked an eyebrow. "Then perhaps we should go home right _now_. I'm sure we could Apparate from the loo."

"And miss dinner? Hardly," Remus replied, and he sat low in his chair, slipping off one shoe. Stealthily, he raised his foot, aiming for Sam's cock. He brushed against the fabric covering Sam's inner thigh, and Sam jumped, then widened his eyes at Remus.

"You're _terrible_ ," he hissed across the table.

Remus said nothing, just worked his foot inwards until he could feel the sizable bulge trapped under Sam's trousers, then began to massage it. Sam choked and apparently decided to pretend nothing was wrong, plating slices of mortadella, capicola, cheese, and vegetables for himself and for Remus. He nudged Remus's plate across the table, but neither of them ate anything for a moment, and Sam slipped his hand below the tablecloth again.

Remus had expected Sam to perhaps unzip his trousers and take out his cock, but instead, Sam took a firm hold on Remus's foot.

"Eat," he ordered, "and then when we're done, if it turns out we _can_ Apparate from the loo, we _will_ , because at this point I'm not sure I'm going to make it through the pasta without coming in my pants."

That was exactly what Remus had hoped for, and he tucked in to his antipasto with a smile.

He relented after that--mostly. When Sam let go of his foot, he put it back down on the floor, making a point of leaning over to retie his shoe. And he only made a few more _sotto voce_ off-colour remarks. Altogether it was enough to keep Sam squirming through the main course, however, and he firmly declined the waiter's offer of dessert or coffee, paying the cheque as soon as it was brought.

"All right," he growled at Remus as he counted out Muggle banknotes and slapped them down on the table. "Loo. Now."

Luckily the door to the gents' was around a corner near the entrance, and no one was likely to notice if they went in and didn't come out. Remus had Sam up against the door as soon as they were inside, his palm pressed against the bulge of Sam's cock.

"Sure you want to go home?" Remus asked. "This door locks. Wouldn't you like me to fuck you here?" He squeezed gently.

Sam's eyes were bright. "Yes. _God._ Haven't done this in... I don't know, years." He laughed a little. "I feel like a kid again, desperate."

"No need," Remus assured him, reaching out to flip the lock. He pulled Sam into a long, passionate kiss first, still stroking him through his trousers with one hand, and then said, "Lower these and turn around."

Sam did so, pulling trousers and pants down together to his knees, then spreading his legs as wide as the fabric would permit and bracing himself against the door. Remus drew out his wand to cast a lubrication charm, and as an afterthought repeated the silencing charm Sam had used earlier in the shop.

"Going to fuck you now, Sam," he whispered. "Going to pound into you until you come for me."

" _Yesss_ ," Sam hissed as Remus pushed into him. No finesse here, just cock in arse, and hand around cock. Remus could feel Sam quivering with eagerness as he set up a rapid rhythm.

Remus didn't especially care if he came yet himself or not; they could easily continue at home. What he wanted was to make Sam come undone, right here in the gents', gasping and trembling and coming, his spunk spattering the clean wood of the loo door. He adjusted his angle slightly and moved his hips faster, stroking Sam's cock with the same beat.

"Fuck, _yes_ , Remus," Sam panted. "Want you to come inside me."

"Right here?" Remus teased. "Right now? You want me to come inside you where there are people dining just on the other side of this door?" He spoke into Sam's ear, then licked it to punctuate his dirty talk.

Sam's only answer was a needy whine, and Remus plunged into him harder, faster, until Sam was racked with a great shudder and Remus felt warm slippery spunk coating his fingers as Sam scrabbled for purchase on the smooth wood of the door.

Remus held Sam up as his knees weakened, no longer supported by the strength of lust. Sam turned around, his cock still hanging out of his trousers, red and wet, and he kissed Remus hard.

"You didn't come yet," he said into Remus's ear, and before Remus could say anything in response, Sam had wrapped his arms around Remus, muttering, "Hold on," and Apparated them to Sam's flat.

They appeared in the living room, and Remus had hardly got his bearings before Sam was shoving him down onto the sofa and opening his trouser zip, taking out his cock, and engulfing it with his wonderful mouth with scarcely time to mutter a cleaning spell.

"We shouldn't have left that mess--" Remus gasped, but all thoughts of what they should or shouldn't have done flew from his mind as Sam began sucking Remus off in earnest, teasing his bollocks and performing feats with his tongue and lips that would have erased coherent thought from _anyone's_ mind.

Remus sank back into the sofa cushions, and it wasn't long at all before he was grabbing two fistfuls of Sam's hair and coming down his throat for the second time that day.

When Remus had finished, Sam looked up at him with a satisfied smile and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then crawled up onto the sofa beside Remus. Sam still hadn't tucked his cock back into his trousers, and the two of them lay against the cushions for a long moment, both panting, both satiated, both looking utterly, lewdly debauched.

"We _really_ shouldn't have left that mess," was the first thing Remus said when he found his voice again, and, after a moment of contemplation, they both laughed. Sam had been right earlier--Remus felt utterly like a kid again.

"They'll have to get past the locked door first," replied Sam, and this set them both to laughing even harder.

"Oh, well," said Remus eventually, wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes, "I'm sure the manager will have a key."

"I'd imagine so," Sam agreed. He gave Remus a leisurely kiss. "Now if I suggest that we should put away your new clothes, and perhaps take a shower together, are you going to attack me in the shower too?"

"Don't think so," Remus said. He felt a moment's regret that he _wasn't_ still a teenager, able to have sex again practically immediately, but on the other hand they'd done it three times that day, which was pretty impressive. "But I'll wash your back."

Sam hugged him. "That's good enough."

They were both disarranged and sticky and a shower sounded good. Remus tossed the carrier bag with his new trousers and shirt onto Sam's bed and plucked the dressing gown Sam had given him from the hook behind the door. Sam had already started the water running and he beckoned Remus from behind billows of steam, holding out the soap.

It was comfortable, if a little crowded, standing there with Sam under the hot spray, each of them washing bits of the other and exchanging kisses and caresses as they went.

"Thanks," Remus said when they had finished and were towelling off. He reached for his toothbrush and squeezed paste onto it.

"For what?" Sam said.

"For making this a really good day, even though I was rather a bastard there for a while before lunch," said Remus. "I'm not that much for shopping, but doing it with you was a lot more enjoyable than I usually find it. I just wanted to say that I appreciated that." He started to clean his teeth, and Sam nodded and did so too.

"Remus," said Sam when he was finished.

"What, Sam?"

Sam had an odd expression on his face, almost nervous. He took a breath and let it out, and smiled. "Never mind. Something for another time. Come to bed."

So Remus did.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teddy tells Andrew something he didn't quite intend to, and begins his final lesson with Remus.

When he entered Prowler with Andrew in tow, the last person Teddy expected to see was his father.

And yet, there was Remus, standing in the queue at the till, talking to Sam as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Which, Teddy supposed, it sort of _was_ \--but that didn't mean it wasn't _weird_. He blinked rapidly when his father's eyes met his own, shocked into stillness for the span of a second, then he grabbed Andrew's arm, steering him towards the opposite side of the store. If they were lucky, Remus and Sam would just pay and leave without realising they'd forgotten something--and they did, to Teddy's great relief.

"So this is the place where you got your plugs?" Andrew asked. He clearly hadn't seen Remus and Sam, or he wouldn't be acting so casual.

"Um, yeah," said Teddy, trying to remember where the plugs were from the time he'd been at Prowler with Remus. "That way," he said, indicating, "but we have plenty of time to look around."

"I think I want to get some," said Andrew, "and I _definitely_ want to get those clamps--you said you'd wear them under your shirt the next time we go out."

"Oh, trust me--I remember that promise," said Teddy, and he did--the very idea of it turned him on something fierce.

Of course, he'd been on the edge of being turned on all day, since he had read the letter Remus had owled to him that morning, the letter scheduling their next-- _no_ , Teddy corrected himself, their _final_ lesson--for next Sunday.

They picked out a simple set of clamps together, different from the ones Remus had used on Teddy, and Andrew chose a set of plugs in sizes similar to Teddy's, but in black rubber instead of the white that Teddy had. They wandered the store, and Teddy felt a little more free to do so this time--he wasn't on unfamiliar ground anymore, and going there with his boyfriend was quite a bit different than going there with his dad.

Despite what he'd _done_ with his dad.

After laughing together over some of the weird pants the store had on display and wondering aloud why anyone would ever want to wear clothing made of rubber, they were both ready to go, and approached the till.

"Oh, wait," said Teddy, "Lube." He dashed back and chose a bottle from the shelf.

"You gents find everything you need?" asked the smiling clerk as he rang up their purchases.

"Yes, everything, thanks," said Andrew, and he took Teddy's hand.

Teddy squeezed back. He was still amazed that Andrew had agreed to come here, even if it was a Muggle shop where they'd be unlikely to run into anyone they knew--Remus aside, apparently, although since Teddy only knew about the shop because of Remus, maybe that wasn't so surprising. But Andrew seemed to have turned some kind of corner, although he hadn't talked about it much. Maybe it was what they had done last weekend, maybe it was the fact that he'd written his sisters at Hogwarts and had an enthusiastic reply to his suggestion of meeting in Hogsmeade sometime soon. It didn't matter.

"I'm really glad you don't have any matches this early in the season," Teddy said, holding open the shop door for Andrew to exit.

Andrew pulled his muffler a little tighter around his throat. "There'd be icicles on our broomsticks if we did."

"Or in even less wonderful places." Teddy grinned. "Now... how do you feel about trying out those new acquisitions?"

"I thought you'd never ask," said Andrew. "My flat this time, okay?"

"Okay," said Teddy. He quite enjoyed visiting Andrew, although more often Andrew had stayed with him. "Should we pick up some lunch first?"

"I have food in my fridge. We can have something easy like toasted cheese, and then figure out dinner later. There isn't any reason why you can't stay tonight, is there?"

Teddy shook his head. "No, but next Sunday I'm going to spend the day at my dad's; he wants a father-son day for some reason." He added the last to forestall any suggestion that Andrew might come along. Not that he'd usually mind having Andrew, just not this time.

"Oh, was that the owl you got this morning? I wondered. Maybe he and Sam are moving in together and he wants to tell you."

"I suppose that could be it," Teddy said, a pang going through him. He reminded himself that even if that were the case, he would still have his final lesson, and that was worth looking forward to. And after that... he'd feel as if he were ready to really have sex with Andrew. Even if Remus insisted, and Teddy knew intellectually, that what they'd been doing _was_ sex, somehow the idea of penetration, of cock in arse, seemed more real, more serious, than anything he'd ever done.

From down an alley and behind a rubbish bin where no one would see them, they Apparated. Teddy went first to his own flat to pick up his plugs, as well as the two Wizarding books that Remus had lent him, then on to Andrew's where they ate lunch hastily, both agreed without needing to talk about it that they wanted to get to the trying-out part as soon as they could.

They retreated to the cool darkness of Andrew's bedroom, took off each other's shirts, and spread their loot out on the bed--Andrew's new plugs and Teddy's already well-used plugs, and the new nipple clamps that shone even in the dim room. Teddy placed the bottle of lube there, too, as well as Remus's books.

"That's quite a haul," observed Teddy. "If anyone were to burst in right now, they'd think we were quite the pair of perverts."

"We _are_ a pair of perverts," Andrew reminded him with a grin, and Teddy laughed.

"Then let's get to it," he said. Andrew said that he thought this was a brilliant idea, and Teddy wondered aloud what they should try first.

"We _could_ look at the books to get some ideas," he said, knowing full well that that was _not_ what either of them wanted to do first. "Or... I suppose we could try out the clamps, and then I could fuck you with your new plugs."

"I vote for that last idea," Andrew put in, and Teddy smiled.

"I thought you might," he said. He dropped the books on the floor and put the rest of their things on the nightstand, keeping them within easy reach, but held on to the clamps.

"Okay," he said, trying to remember that he had to act like he'd never tried these before. "Let's, um. I think they unscrew like this." He demonstrated, keeping his movements purposely clumsy but, he hoped, not overly so. When he had loosened one clamp, he handed it to Andrew. "Ready when you are," he said with a shaky breath.

"You sure?" asked Andrew.

Giving a shrug, Teddy said, "Only one way to find out."

"Okay, then." Andrew kissed Teddy's mouth, then bent to affix the clamp around one nipple. "I'll tighten it now, if you want," said Andrew, and Teddy nodded eagerly.

He hissed with pleasure, letting his head fall back as Andrew tightened the clamp until he finally had to choke out, "Enough--enough." The sensation was familiar, yet somehow even more erotic than when he'd done it with Remus--probably because he was with his boyfriend, he told himself, and not his dad, and they were exploring, not teaching or learning.

"Too tight?" Andrew looked worried.

"I think it's okay for now... if I were going to wear them all evening at a club I might want it a little looser, though," said Teddy. He took in a breath and let it out. "Wow. You can put on the other one."

This time Andrew kissed Teddy's bare nipple before he attached the clamp, tightening it the same as the first. He ran a finger along Teddy's breastbone, between the two, saying, "Those look really fucking amazing on you."

Teddy glanced down. His nipples were darker than usual from the pressure, and the two clamps gleamed against his skin. Andrew was right; if he saw these on someone else, he'd think the same.

"They feel good," he assured Andrew. "They hurt just right." He took Andrew's hand and guided it to where his prick was already poking stiffly at the restraint of his underpants. "See?"

Andrew rubbed him through his trousers for a moment. "Mm hm. I think we should finish undressing now, don't you?"

Moving his arms to take off the rest of his clothes made the clamps pull slightly. Teddy shivered, watching Andrew's fit body emerge from layers of winter clothing, thinking that in just over a week, he'd have found out what it was like to have a cock up his arse, and after that, he and Andrew could try it together. Not that this wasn't going to be good, too, or that he thought he wouldn't want to still use plugs and other toys at least sometimes. He licked his lips.

"Which plug do you want to use?"

Andrew picked all three of his up, turning them over and hefting each in his palm. "You used the smallest one on me last time, right?

"That's right." Teddy waited. He didn't really care what Andrew chose tonight, although he thought it would probably be a good idea to work up to the largest before he tried putting his cock in.

"Maybe--start with the small one, and then try the medium after a bit?" said Andrew hesitantly.

"That's what I did," agreed Teddy.

"Okay, then." Andrew handed those two to Teddy, putting the largest plug back on the night stand and picking up the lube.

"Here, let me," said Teddy. He took the lube from Andrew and spread it over the small plug, swirling his fingers over it in what he hoped was a sensual manner. "Ready?"

Andrew had settled himself amongst the pillows and raised his knees, spreading his legs wide while Teddy finished preparing the plug. "Yeah, definitely," he said with a grin. He held his stiffening cock in one hand and dragged the fingers of the other down over his bollocks, then across his arsehole.

Teddy couldn't wait to see Andrew's pink arsehole stretching and accepting the plug, and he walked forward on his knees until he was comfortably settled between Andrew's open legs.

"All right," he said, and he leaned forward and kissed each of Andrew's thighs before licking a stripe up the centre of his bollocks. Andrew shivered and groaned Teddy's name, his prick standing at attention, and Teddy smiled and kissed Andrew's thighs again, then smeared lube over his arsehole.

"Going to do it now," he said, his voice rough, and he inserted the tip of his index finger into Andrew's puckered hole.

"Yes, Ted, fuck," said Andrew. "Put it in."

Teddy suppressed a laugh and pressed his finger in a little further, loving the tight, suckling heat of Andrew's hole. "Someday soon it'll be my cock in here," he said, waggling his finger a little for emphasis, "But for now--"

He extracted his finger and pressed the tip of the smallest plug to Andrew's hole.

"For now, you'll fill me with the plug," Andrew gasped as he felt the cool rubber touch his skin.

"You're bloody right I will," replied Teddy, and he eased it in, inch by inch, taking it slowly as his father had taught him in order to maximise Andrew's pleasure and minimise his discomfort.

"Don't forget to breathe," Teddy reminded Andrew, watching his face, and Andrew exhaled, then sucked in a breath, his eyes fluttering open to meet Teddy's gaze.

"It's fucking brilliant, Ted," he said. "I l-love it."

"Black's a good look for you," said Teddy, admiring the way that the black plug emerged from the pinkness of Andrew's hole.

He twisted it, altering the angle until Andrew gasped, "Ohfuck," and Teddy knew he'd found Andrew's prostate. He repeated the motion a few times before pulling the plug mostly out and sinking it in again, over and over, Andrew rocking to meet him.

"Ah--that's-- _yeah_ ," Andrew sputtered, not very coherently, his hand tugging at his prick. " _Ted_..."

"D'you want more?" Teddy had started rolling his own bollocks with the fingers of his free hand. "Want me to try the bigger plug?"

Andrew nodded. His face was flushed and he brushed away the hair clinging damply to his forehead. "Please, yeah."

Teddy left the small plug in Andrew's arse while he smeared plenty of lube on the medium-sized one. His nipples were almost numb by now, until he jostled one and bit his lip at the renewed sensation. He didn't want to stop to take them off, though.

"Gonna switch over," he warned Andrew, and tugged the small plug away, setting it aside. "Relax--push against it." The larger plug slid in a couple of inches without difficulty. Teddy soothed Andrew's thighs with his other hand, and bent over to kiss the base of his cock.

" _Oh_ ," cried out Andrew as his arsehole stretched around the widest part of the plug.

"Did that hurt?" Teddy held still.

"N-no. Just _full_." Andrew breathed rapidly. "'S okay. Keep going."

"You look really, really hot like this," Teddy told him, and with a slow but steady push, thrust the plug the rest of the way in. "Okay now?"

"Yeah." Andrew swallowed. He reached for Teddy's hand, holding the plug. "Move it with me?"

Together they fucked Andrew's arse, each of them gripping his own cock as well, until Teddy couldn't bear the pressure on his nipples any longer.

"Fuck," he swore, giving in, "Andrew, I'm sorry--I've got to--" He took his hand from the plug and gestured to his nipples. "I've got to get these off. I'm sorry."

It took a moment for Andrew to fully realise the situation, lost as he must have been in sexual bliss, but it was apparent when he did, for his eyes widened and he propped himself up on his elbows.

"Fuck, Ted, I forgot you had those on," he said. "Do they hurt?"

Teddy shook his head. "I've gone a bit numb," he answered, his voice hoarse, "And I kn--I think that when we take these off, it's going to hurt. Blood rushing back to the area and everything. Um."

"So maybe," said Andrew, "I could take them off you while you touch yourself. Sort of take your mind off things. Let me just take this out first, it'll distract me too much."

Teddy cast a reluctant glance at the black plug disappearing into Andrew's hole, a thin rim of pink showing around its base. "Yeah," he said, "we could do that." He watched as Andrew eased the plug from his hole, wincing only a very little, and set it on the nightstand.

"Come here, then," said Andrew, sitting against the headboard.

Teddy sat so his back was against Andrew's chest. "I'm sorry about--" he said, gesturing towards the plug looming on the nightstand.

In response, Andrew just licked Teddy's neck and drew a hand up his chest. "I liked being fucked," he said, "but I like watching you touch yourself, too. And now I get to watch over your shoulder. So touch yourself for me, Ted."

A whimper escaped Teddy's lips and he did as instructed, trailing his fingers up and down the length of his cock a few times, then wrapping his fingers around it and beginning to pump it in earnest. Andrew's hands danced over his chest, circling around and around his nipples, until they bumped one of the clamps and Teddy almost screamed.

He let the pain flow through him, though, and controlled his breath, letting it out in a long, slow hiss and jerking his cock a little harder. It was horribly painful, there was no doubt about it--maybe a little more painful than Teddy would usually like, considering he'd left them on longer than he'd planned--but he found the spark of pleasure hiding within the pain, and he concentrated on that, smearing precome over the head of his cock as Andrew began to ease the clamp from his left nipple.

Teddy could feel Andrew's prick pressing against his back, and he focused on Andrew's stabilising presence, on his own hand on his cock, as the blood began to flow back into his nipple.

"Sh, sh," Andrew murmured. He put the clamp aside and stroked Teddy's chest, not touching too close to where his nipple now throbbed painfully. "Okay, Ted? Ready for the other one?"

Swallowing, Teddy said, "Wait just a minute." He took a few breaths. "All right."

Andrew slid his fingers over to Teddy's right nipple, jostling the clamp and apologising quickly as he began to remove it. Tears sprang to Teddy's eyes at the sensation, and he brushed them away almost angrily with his left hand as his right continued to pump his cock, the pleasure and the pain together sending the blood rushing to his brain.

He was dimly aware of Andrew holding him close, rocking against him. He whimpered again, _needing_ , and Andrew licked the shell of his ear, sucked on his earlobe, bit delicately at his neck. Teddy's hand flew faster over his cock.

"That's right, Ted," Andrew breathed. "Touch yourself."

Andrew's bollocks nestled against Teddy's arse, his prick throbbing hot against Teddy's back. Teddy suddenly longed to have that prick inside him, those bollocks slapping against him, but he'd made a decision and he would wait. He twisted his head awkwardly to bring his lips to Andrew's, their mouths joining in a fervent kiss.

The pain had diminished, now, so that when Andrew's hand slid over Teddy's nipple on its way downward, it only brought Teddy closer to orgasm. He had intended to use one of the plugs on himself, but the urgency of the moment predominated and he choked out, "Andrew--help me--yeah," as Andrew started to caress Teddy's cock.

He came in a haze of white heat, blood pulsing in his cock, his nipples, pounding in his throat where Andrew's lips had fastened. It took several moments for him to recover.

"Sorry," Teddy said when he realised that Andrew had been waiting patiently for him. "Wow, though. That was awfully intense."

Andrew kissed him. "Do you think I could try those clamps, maybe?"

"Of course, if you want. But I think let's not tighten them so much, and not leave them on you so long." Teddy shuddered. "It was a little much, although I'm not sorry to have pushed as far as I could handle."

"Well, we can take it further next time," said Andrew, his voice strangely breathy. He still held the clamps in one hand, and he put them into one of Teddy's. "Will you?" he asked.

Teddy wanted nothing so much as to roll over and have a nice, long nap, but Andrew had been more than accommodating to him, and Teddy knew it would be awful of him not to return the favour. He nodded and they switched positions, Teddy with his back against the headboard and Andrew with his back against Teddy's still-sensitive chest.

When he began to screw the clamps on to Andrew's nipples, Teddy gave a lick to Andrew's neck, murmuring, "Tell me when they're tight enough."

"I will," said Andrew, and he sucked in a breath, then whimpered. Teddy privately thought that he personally could have--and, indeed, _had_ \--taken much more than Andrew had, but he kept that thought to himself and kissed Andrew's neck again.

"Good?" he asked.

"I--I don't know," said Andrew, "It hurts like anything, but there's--I think I get it. There's a little pleasure sort of mixed in with the pain. Does that sound sick?"

"If you're sick, then so am I," said Teddy, "because that's exactly how it feels to me. Shall I do the other?"

After a moment's hesitation, Andrew nodded, and Teddy affixed the other clamp to Andrew's other nipple, careful to pay close attention to the sounds Andrew was making, and priding himself on getting it just tight enough, stopping before Andrew said anything.

"Now touch yourself," said Teddy.

"Help me," said Andrew, and Teddy did, stroking Andrew's cock with one hand while Andrew stroked his own bollocks. Teddy let his free hand wander up and over Andrew's chest, then, as if by accident, bumped against Andrew's left nipple. Andrew let out a whimpering howl, and Teddy quickly took his hand away.

"Too much?" he asked.

There was no sound for a moment; Andrew was holding his breath.

" _Breathe_ , you berk," said Teddy, and nudged him. "You okay? Too much?"

"No." Andrew's voice was strangled. "Do that again. _Please_."

Teddy wasn't sure about this, but Andrew _said_ he wanted it, so--Teddy jostled the clamp on Andrew's right nipple this time, and Andrew howled again.

"Ohgod, ohfuck, yes," he babbled, pushing his cock into Teddy's hand, "again, Ted, ohfuck..."

When Teddy did it a third time, Andrew came, his body arching as his spunk spurted through Teddy's fingers. Teddy held him until he stopped shaking.

"Let me take these off," Teddy suggested, reaching for the clamps, and Andrew nodded without meeting Teddy's eyes.

Carefully Teddy loosened and removed first the left, then the right clamp, and Andrew winced and bit his lips as he did so.

"Are you all right?" asked Teddy when he had finished and laid them back on the night stand with the other things.

Andrew shook his head just a fraction.

"Did I hurt you?" Even though he knew he hadn't tightened the clamps enough to be really painful, Teddy was worried; not everyone could handle pain well, he knew that just from watching his dorm mates over the years at Hogwarts. "Andrew, please, look at me."

Finally Andrew did. "It hurt some, but..."

"But what?"

"I _liked_ that it hurt." Andrew shook himself like a wet Crup. "You saw. I _really_ liked it. I feel like a real pervert; I mean, fancying a bloke, okay, perverted maybe but not that weird, I realise now. But this was something I didn't know about myself and I'm not sure I'm happy about it."

"No, Andrew, it's okay," said Teddy, feeling slightly panicked. "I mean, just because you liked this doesn't make you a different person than you've ever been. You're not going to demand that I beat you, or anything, right? Playing around with stuff like this is just supposed to be fun, try out different things to see what you enjoy. If you like something a lot, that's the whole idea."

"I'm not sure anymore _how_ much I liked it," Andrew replied.

"Why? Because you're feeling wrong about liking it now? _Don't_ , Andrew. It looked to me like you liked it quite a bit, and--and if you think you're a pervert for liking it, then you're calling me a pervert, too, and I'm not sure I can let you say that." Teddy frowned at Andrew and crossed his arms over his chest.

"God," said Andrew, burying his face in his hands, "Fuck. I'm sorry." He didn't sound very sorry, though, gritting his teeth as he spoke and spitting out his words. But before Teddy could spit back, he took a deep breath and his stance softened--Andrew was embarrassed, not hostile, and probably didn't know how to act at all.

Not that Teddy knew, either, but he tentatively moved forward and put his arms around Andrew. "Hey," he said softly against Andrew's bare shoulder. "Hey. It's okay. Because--because I don't think you're a pervert--I don't." His words began to come out all in a rush. "You'd have to do some _really_ bizarre stuff for me to think you were a pervert, like, I don't know, those pictures we looked at where the one bloke was _pissing_ on the other, and even _then_ I'd probably indulge you once or twice, okay, because I love you."

As soon as he said it, Andrew tensed, and Teddy winced. He hadn't meant to say that, no matter how he was certain he felt, not for _months_ , and probably not even then unless Andrew said it first. _Fuck_! It hadn't been long enough, not _nearly_ long enough--they were each the other's first real boyfriend, for god's sake--what had he _said_?

"Fuck," he said, moving away, "I'm sorry." He sat on the edge of the bed, stupid and naked and vulnerable, and waited for Andrew to say something. _Anything_.

For what felt like twenty minutes but was probably more like twenty seconds, neither of them moved. Teddy waited to hear a breath or a rustle of bedclothes, but he heard nothing until Andrew heaved a great sigh.

"Wow, Ted," Andrew said, and the fact that he said Teddy's name caused hope to rise in Teddy's chest, but he beat it back down again, waiting.

The bedclothes did rustle, then, and Andrew sat beside him, their naked thighs just touching. Teddy could feel the heat radiating off Andrew's skin.

"I hadn't exactly planned on saying that," Teddy said, looking at his hands.

"Did you mean it?" Andrew asked.

Teddy swallowed hard. He could backtrack, play it safe, or he could tell the truth. "Yeah. I mean it. I just wasn't going to say it yet."

He waited. Andrew was silent, and again the waiting seemed to stretch out forever before he finally put a hand on Teddy's knee.

"I--I love you too." His voice shook. "I've never said that to anyone but my family before."

They both turned their heads to look at each other at the same moment. Andrew's face was even redder than Teddy thought his own probably was. Teddy reached up and brushed Andrew's fringe back from his eyes, and leaned over to give Andrew a kiss on the cheek, but Andrew tilted his face and they bumped noses instead, making Teddy laugh, and after an instant, Andrew too.

Teddy put his arms around Andrew. "I wasn't going to say it yet, but I'm glad I did."

"So am I," said Andrew.

The rest of that afternoon and evening took on a golden glow for Teddy, both then and looking back later, but he couldn't have said what exactly they did or ate or talked about to save his life; he just remembered the bubbling happiness he felt.

He was still elated the next Sunday when he went to his father's house, even though the knowledge that this would be their final lesson brought a pang. But he also was looking forward to learning what Remus had to teach him, things he'd be able to share with Andrew afterward.

"You look like you're in a good mood," said Remus when Teddy came in and found him in the living room. He was drinking tea, as usual, and wearing his cardigan and slippers. He took off his reading glasses and ran a hand through his hair.

"I am. So do you." Teddy plopped down in one of the other chairs.

Remus smiled. "Sam and I are going on holiday to France in a couple of weeks; I'm looking forward to it."

"That's why you wanted to have our last lesson today," Teddy guessed, and Remus nodded.

"It seemed as if it would be a good idea to finish them before I leave. I assume you do still want to?"

"Oh, _yes_ ," said Teddy fervently. He looked at his father, unfashionable and even staid, and remembered the very different way that Remus had appeared during their previous lessons, and felt himself getting hard already at the thought that soon, _soon_ , Remus's cock would be inside him. "I want to."

"I'm glad," said Remus, and he said no more for a moment, just smiled at Teddy and finished his tea.

"I had planned to have a nice, long talk with you before this lesson began," he said, setting his teacup and saucer on the table beside his armchair, "But then I realised that, since we've made it this far, and since you've behaved admirably as of late, perhaps we don't need to do so after all."

That was fine with Teddy--as much as he did like talking with his father, he was already excited enough as it was for their final lesson, and a talk to delay things would have disappointed him, a little, though he wouldn't have dared say so to Remus.

"We'll talk in the bedroom, though, right?" he asked, hoping he didn't sound overeager.

"Oh, indeed," replied Remus, "I think we'll have a lot to talk about when we get there."

When they had ascended the stairs, Teddy turned left to head into the guest bedroom, but Remus stopped him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"We won't be in there today," he said. "Come with me." He held out his hand, and Teddy took it, wondering, and Remus led Teddy into Remus's own bedroom.

The shades were drawn and the room was dim, but Remus had put candles and stumps of candles on nearly every flat surface, and their flickering light threw strange shadows around the room. The bed was covered with a new duvet, one that Teddy hadn't seen before, a deep, rich red that looked as though it would be unbelievably soft to the touch, and there were thick pillows all along the headboard, numbers of them in all shapes and sizes, rich golds and reds and burgundies.

Teddy turned to his father, his eyes shining. "Did you do this for _me_?" he asked in wonder.

Remus nodded, a slow smile spreading across his face. "I did," he said. "What do you think? Will this do?"

Teddy didn't want to ask how his father had afforded the new bedclothes and pillows, so he just squeezed Remus's hand and closed his eyes for a moment, revelling in the fact of how very lucky and how very loved he was.

"This is brilliant, Dad," he finally breathed. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Remus pulled Teddy close and held him, just the way he'd done since Teddy could remember. "I'm very proud to have you as my son, and I wanted to do something special for this final time," he said quietly.

Teddy hugged Remus back as hard as he could, not even thinking for the moment about sex, just about what a wonderful father Remus was and always had been. "I love you too."

With a final hug, Remus let go. "Are you ready?"

"I'm ready," Teddy said, his heart beating fast, wondering if the "bedroom talk" Remus had mentioned was dirty talk. "Should I undress?"

"Not quite yet. Just take your shoes off for now," said Remus, stepping out of his own slippers and then going to the bed and stretching out on it. From the way Remus moved, Teddy suspected that he was just as aroused as Teddy himself, even if he was better at not showing it. "Come here. I want you to think about all the lessons you've had these past several months, and tell me some of what you've learned from them."

So _that_ was the sort of talk Remus meant, at least to begin with. Well, Teddy could handle that all right.

"Sex isn't just about penetration," he began, and grinned at his father. "Um. I have to admit that I still have a hard time with that one, although I've definitely learned that there are a _lot_ of quite amazing-feeling other things to do. But I'm still looking forward to learning about penetration tonight."

"Fair enough." Remus smiled in return and touched Teddy's lips. "Go on."

Teddy kissed Remus's fingertips. "Kissing is worthwhile in itself. And touching. And there are a lot of places besides the other person's lips and cock that can be fun to kiss and touch. Listening to what your partner says, or the noises he makes, or seeing the way his body moves and reacts, are important ways to find out if he likes what you're doing, or if he finds it boring, or if it even maybe hurts.

"Dad, can I ask you about something related to that?"

"Of course. That's been the whole point of these lessons, hasn't it, so that you can find out whatever it is you feel like you don't know yet but need to?" Remus looked at Teddy seriously. "You can ask me about anything at all, and I'll do my best to answer as fully and truthfully as I can."

"Okay." Teddy swallowed. "I know you said that you don't really enjoy pain as part of, well, sex play." He paused, and Remus nodded. "Um. After our last lesson, I bought some nipple clamps. At Prowler. When you saw me there last week." He knew that he didn't need to explain that, but he was nervous, trying to think of how to ask his question without telling Remus more about Andrew than Andrew would want him to know. "If someone likes the way they hurt him, maybe even comes from it, that's okay, isn't it? I mean it doesn't mean he's sick or crazy, right?"

Remus frowned. "Not at all, Ted," he said, reaching out to stroke Teddy's chest through his jumper. "Just because one person doesn't like something doesn't mean someone else is sick or wrong to like it. Are you having trouble?"

Teddy knew that by "you", Remus really meant "you and Andrew", and he hastened to set his father's mind at ease. "No--we're great. Really great. It's not, um--" He paused again.

"You don't have to explain, Ted," Remus said then. He propped his head up on his elbow and looked at Teddy. "Just remember this, please. If you and your partner, whomever it may be, enjoy whatever you're doing, and you're not doing anything that will cause lasting harm to anyone, then keep doing it. Keep enjoying yourself. Promise me you will."

"I will," said Teddy.

"A little tweak on the nipple or a smack on the arse isn't 'lasting harm'--it's _fun_ , and for more people than you'd probably ever guess. If you find pleasure in something, go with it. Explore it. You can back off if it ever becomes less than fun. But, no, I guess my short answer--not that I ever give a short answer, do I?--is no. Neither you nor Andrew is sick or crazy if you enjoy the way your nipple clamps hurt."

Bizarrely, Teddy wished Andrew could have been there to hear Remus's speech, for Teddy himself felt reassured, even though he hadn't been too doubtful in the first place.

"Thanks, Dad," he said. "That's good to hear."

"And Teddy?"

"Yeah?"

"I know this is our last lesson, but that doesn't mean it's the last of our communication. I want you to feel you can still come to me--to ask me questions, to discuss problems, to share joy, or anything at all in any part of your life. Including your sex life, as blunt as I suppose that sounds."

Teddy nodded and swallowed around the lump that had formed in his throat. "I will," he said, "I still will." Remus had mentioned joy, and Teddy wondered if he should tell his father about the latest golden joy in his life, the declarations he and Andrew had shared, but he couldn't think of a way to put it that wasn't awkward, so he kept it to himself for the time being.

"And--well, I'd tell you to tell Andrew that I'd be happy to talk with him, too, if he ever has questions, although I suppose he might feel awkward asking _me_ because of _you_. But tell him anyway." Remus gave a sudden, impish grin, and Teddy could see for a moment the boy his father might have been. "I promise I won't teach him the same way I've been teaching you, in case you're wondering."

"Okay, I'll tell him," Teddy promised, although he suspected Remus was right. "Um. Things I've learned. I think I've pretty much said them all now."

Remus gave a slow nod. "All right. There's one that I especially want you to remember, though, because if you've learned that, everything else will probably be okay. You've already more or less said it, actually. Listen to your partner, and tell him--or her, if it ever happens to be a her--the truth about how you feel too. If you can communicate honestly, you should be able to solve any problems the two of you have, or realise that they're not solvable and that you'd be better off apart, maybe still able to be friends."

"I understand. I guess Victoire and I have kind of ended up that way now. I'm glad that I told her what was going on with me, even though we'd already broken up by then."

"That's good," Remus agreed.

"Can we get on to the rest of the lesson now?" asked Teddy a little plaintively, before his father could think of anything else that might delay it.

"Yes." Remus laughed. "We'll practise what you've already learned, and then move on from there."

He had hardly finished saying the words when Teddy reached for him and began to unbutton his cardigan. "Good."

Mindful of the lessons, though, Teddy didn't rush through removing Remus's clothes. He finished unbuttoning the cardigan and began on the shirt beneath, glad that Remus wasn't wearing anything below that today, so that he could press soft kisses to each inch of his father's chest as it was revealed in all its scarred beauty. It _was_ beautiful to Teddy, scars and grey hairs and loose skin and all, because it was part of someone he loved. He revelled in the comforting familiar scent of Remus's skin as he breathed it in, his tongue exploring, tracing paths along the scars that led him to a nipple which he suckled on.

Remus's hand stroked Teddy's hair, his back, and the sighs that Remus gave told Teddy that Remus was enjoying this very much. He wriggled upward and kissed his father's mouth.

Remus kissed him back, soft flickering kisses that almost weren't there, as if he were holding back for some reason.

"Oh, my boy," Remus sighed against Teddy's mouth, between kisses, "I do love you so."

He began to kiss Teddy in earnest, then, stroking his jawline and neck, causing Teddy to shudder.

Remus made a sound in his throat that was almost a chuckle. "You've always liked that, haven't you?" he asked, and Teddy nodded, looking into his father's eyes.

"Thanks to you, I found that out," he said, "I found out that just touching can be really bloody brilliant." He kissed Remus again, then sat up. "Let me undress you more, please, Dad," he said, and Remus sat up as well.

"Today, anything you wish," replied Remus, and Teddy wondered if he had imagined the wistful note in his father's voice.

He must have done, for it was gone a moment later when Remus shrugged off his cardigan and shirt the rest of the way and lifted his eyebrows at Teddy and asked, "What next?"

Teddy wasn't used to being in charge; he faltered at Remus's question.

"A choice, then," said Remus. "Will you undress me the rest of the way, or shall I take off your jumper and whatever it is you happen to be wearing underneath?" His voice was different than it had been when they had first begun kissing; he had slipped back into his teaching mode.

"I--now me? Will you undress me, please, Dad?"

Remus leaned forward and kissed Teddy's cheek, then grasped the sleeves of his heavy woollen jumper. "Pull," he said, and Teddy pulled his arms out of the sleeves as Remus tugged the jumper over his head, leaving Teddy clad in a thin long-sleeved t-shirt which also had the benefit of being very nearly skin-tight. Andrew had praised his looks when he'd worn it before; he hoped his father would do the same.

"You look gorgeous today, Ted," said Remus, looking him over, and Teddy couldn't help but grin. He had planned it all, of course--in addition to the shirt, he had also worn his hair brown and on the short side, just starting to curl at the nape of his neck, the colour and length his father liked it best.

Remus cleared his throat and spoke again. "Every day, really. Andrew's a very lucky young man."

"Sam's lucky too," said Teddy, and Remus flushed.

"Well. Thank you." Remus ran his hand over the tight fabric that covered Teddy's chest, searching out and pinching his nipples. Teddy whimpered and arched up into the touch.

"I wasn't particularly intending to use any toys today, but would you like me to put the clamps on you?" Remus was using his teaching voice again as his thumbnail flicked a tight peak in emphasis.

Teddy swallowed and nodded. Remus's hands deftly pulled at Teddy's shirt, untucking it and pulling it off over his head as Teddy moved his arms cooperatively. Remus stroked Teddy's bared chest again, his fingers warm.

"All right, then."

Remus stood and padded across the room, returning with the clamps. He set one down on the night stand next to the bottle of lube that was already there and settled himself cross-legged next to Teddy. Before he fastened the other clamp, though, he leaned forward to kiss Teddy's chest, licking a wet spiral over Teddy's skin that ended at the sensitive nipple. Drawing back, he blew gently, and Teddy shuddered.

"Oh, Dad," he whispered. He stroked Remus's head and bare shoulders as Remus tightened the first clamp.

When both of them were on, Remus smiled at Teddy. "They look good on you, Ted."

"They feel good." The clamps were not as tight as Andrew had made them, but that was fine with Teddy; the level of sensation was one that he thought he could handle for however long this lesson took. He ran his hands through his hair, arching backward to show the clamps off.

"What now? Today is for you, remember," said Remus.

Today. The last chance he would have to be with Remus ever--he wanted to make it count. "I want to kiss you," Teddy decided.

Remus's expression flickered, but he put his arms around Teddy as they stretched out chest-to-chest on the bed, kissing him with the same attention and intensity that he'd shown earlier. The closeness of their embrace put a little pressure on the nipple clamps, and Teddy's pants grew tight as his cock hardened completely in response.

He wasn't the only one getting hard, either--he could feel his father's growing erection against his own hip, and he kissed Remus harder, wanting simultaneously to keep kissing for the rest of the afternoon, and to be fucked by that cock. _Hard_.

"Dad," he whimpered into the kiss, forgetting, for the moment, about taking things slow and applying all their previous lessons to this one. "Dad, I want you. Please. Inside me." His last two words were little more than a choked whisper, and he clutched at his father's arms and pressed their clothed cocks together, kissing him still.

Remus broke the kiss and gazed very seriously at Teddy, smoothing his fringe back from his forehead. "Shh, Ted," he coaxed. "We mustn't rush this. I--" Remus broke off, then took a deep breath. It looked to Teddy as if he were trying to decide whether to say what he'd begun to say.

"I want this just as much as you do, son," Remus said finally, his voice barely above a murmur. "But the last thing I want--and I suspect you must feel the same--is to have it all end too quickly."

Squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, Teddy took a deep breath. He knew Remus was right, and of course he felt the same way. It was just so bloody hard to control himself when he'd been looking forward to this moment for--fuck, _months_ now.

"You're right, Dad," he said, opening his eyes to meet Remus's gaze. "I don't want to rush this. I just--" There were too many stimulating factors for Teddy to decide which were pressing on him the hardest--being in Remus's room, on Remus's bed. The candles. The new duvet and pillows. The clamps that were presently adorning his nipples.

And the finality of the whole situation--the realisation that Teddy was going to have one sweet taste of was he was certain would be Paradise, only to have it taken away from him immediately after.

"I just, I've been wanting this for so long," he finished lamely, and Remus smoothed his hair back again, and kissed him on his forehead.

"I know," he said. He took Teddy's hand in his and moved it so it was cupping his own erection. "Can't you feel how badly I want you, Teddy?"

Teddy nearly whimpered at the use of his childhood nickname, but he squeezed Remus's erection gently and let out a shuddering breath. "Can I finish undressing you, Dad?" he asked. Maybe that would distract him. Maybe.

Remus stroked his thumb along Teddy's cheek. "Yes." He rolled onto his back so that Teddy could unfasten his trousers, lifting his hips for Teddy to slide the fabric down.

His father's cock was clearly outlined against the white cotton of his pants, which Teddy had left on. He pulled Remus's socks off first and tossed them on the floor with the rest of his clothes, then rubbed his cheek over the hot bulge, the musky scent both arousing and soothing in its familiarity.

He slid a finger under the tight elastic, brushing against the damp head of Remus's prick and eliciting a harshly indrawn breath. Then, carefully, he used both hands to lift the waistband away and down, exposing to his eager eyes what he wanted so much.

"I'm taking the rest of my clothes off too," he announced, wriggling awkwardly to do so, kicking them away in a crumpled ball. The air of the room on his sweat-damp thighs and bollocks was almost like a caress in itself, but he wanted Remus's hands on him. "Dad?"

"Yes, Ted, what?"

"I don't think I'm going to be able to last very long at all," Teddy confessed, ashamed by his lack of control. "But I want to learn this both ways. Could you--would it be all right if I came now, so that I could do better later?"

Remus's smile had a trace of sadness in it. "My good boy, telling the truth. What did you have in mind?"

"You could suck me off?" Teddy's voice nearly broke. He steadied it and went on, "You know how to make that last... you did it once before."

He said it unthinkingly, but the allusion to the day that Teddy had seduced his father, the day he'd nearly ruined everything, made Remus's eyes grow suddenly dark, almost feral.

"Make it last... that's what we both want today, isn't it?" Remus growled. "Because it _is_ the last time. _Promise me._ "

"I promise." Teddy would have promised anything just then, with his father's breath hot against his belly. But he knew, he'd always known, that this could not go on. There was too much for them both to lose if they kept it up. And it wasn't just the fear of discovery of their affair that frightened Teddy. He knew that eventually it would start wearing on him--hell, it already _did_.

He wanted to be with Andrew, yes, but he wanted to be with Remus--with his _father_ \--as well. And that was something he knew he couldn't have.

Except this one last time.

"I promise, Dad," he said again. "I promise."

"Good boy," said Remus, and he arranged himself between Teddy's legs and began kissing his inner thighs, eliciting tortured whimpers from Teddy's throat. He murmured something the whole time against Teddy's skin, words Teddy couldn't quite make out, but Remus could have been reciting _Hogwarts, A History_ for all Teddy cared; he was too focused on the sensation. The sensation which was now so erotic and so comforting at the same time, but which would soon be forbidden.

His father's lips travelling over his skin, his father's tongue flicking out here and there to lick, to taste, to tease. Teddy's bollocks were tight with need, and soon enough Remus was tonguing his way over them, and Teddy whined again and curled his fingers lightly in Remus's hair, watching his father taste him.

" _Dad_ ," he whimpered, and Remus said something against Teddy's bollocks that sounded like _Patience_ , and Teddy focused on his breathing, trying desperately for the patience that he knew his father needed him to have.

Finally, bloody _finally_ , Remus's fingers peeled back Teddy's foreskin, and Remus's mouth made its way up the shaft of Teddy's cock, and Teddy grabbed Remus's hair tighter. When Remus paused in his ministrations, Teddy realised he'd probably grabbed too hard, and he forced himself to release, to clutch at the duvet instead.

Then Remus began again, using those maddening little flicks of his tongue as he'd done all up Teddy's thighs and bollocks, and Teddy knew his cockhead was already leaking precome, and he watched with rapt attention as Remus's tongue darted out to catch the droplets before they pooled and ran down Teddy's cock.

"Gorgeous," he murmured before he could stop himself. Remus had once said it about him, and he'd said it about Andrew, and now, yes, his father was the one who was gorgeous, his pink lips wrapping around the very tip of Teddy's cock, his tongue massaging over the sensitive flesh. Teddy was almost shaking, it was so difficult to hold back now, but he wanted this to last as long as it possibly could.

He moaned, venting his frustrated need that way, and stared at his father's bent head, at the way his own prick made a bulge in Remus's cheek as his father took him in more deeply. The suction coaxed him to let go. His bollocks were throbbing and so was his cock, a maddening pulse.

When Remus scraped his teeth lightly over Teddy's skin, he cried out and came, the sheer overload of sensation overwhelming him. Remus stayed on him, swallowing, licking Teddy clean before relinquishing his cock to rest against his belly, slowly softening as Remus's hands soothed Teddy's thighs.

"Ah," Remus sighed. He ran his tongue over his lips as if savouring the last traces of the taste, and tilted his head to look up at Teddy.

"Thank you." Teddy whispered the words. He was torn, now, between wanting to do the same for Remus, taking this last opportunity to taste his father, and wanting Remus to fuck him as soon and as long as possible. If he sucked Remus, it might well cut into Remus's control; even if he didn't come in Teddy's mouth he might not be able to last as long in his arse afterward.

"You're welcome," said Remus gravely. He rearranged himself to lie partly beside, partly on top of Teddy, so that Teddy could feel the hard jut of Remus's erection against his own hip. Then he kissed Teddy, a soft, almost chaste kiss. "Better now?"

Teddy let out a shaky breath. "Much. Um. Is there anything I should do, that you want me to do, before you fuck me?"

Remus gave a convulsive shudder. "Do you even know how enticing that offer is?"

"I hope so." Teddy rubbed his nose against Remus's cheek and sucked on his earlobe for just a moment. He mumbled into Remus's neck, "I really want this, Dad. I want _you_ , want it to be your cock first inside me."

" _God_ , Ted." Remus squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them again, only inches from Teddy's. "No, there's nothing you should do. I'm going to prepare you first, stretch you, not with a plug but with my fingers, all right? The only thing is..." he hesitated.

"What?" Teddy didn't believe that Remus was going to back out now, but he didn't know what was going through his father's mind.

"You've seen pictures in the books we've looked at together; you know there are different positions we could be in, and some of those are more comfortable, or easier, than others. I have my own preferences, but I'm going to leave this decision up to you."

Teddy knew immediately what he wanted.

"I want to be able to see you, Dad. I want to be on my back."

Remus knitted his eyebrows together. "Are you sure, Ted? That can be more difficult."

"You said the decision was up to me," Teddy said, and he left it at that, and Remus nodded.

"So I did."

Teddy wouldn't have had it any other way. Every time he had imagined having his father fuck him, he'd been on his back, Remus above him. If he was on his hands and knees, which he took to be the easiest position, he wouldn't be able to see his father's face.

"All right," said Remus, "Let's prepare you." He moved slowly, though, and Teddy suspected that this was all a part of making the experience last.

Teddy lay back against the heaps of pillows, keeping his legs together until Remus instructed him otherwise, his cock softened now and resting against his thigh, and watched his father as he took up the bottle of lubricant from the bedside table and stashed it among the pillows.

"I'm going to lick you first," Remus announced then, "and then I'll prepare you with the lube and my fingers. I just want one last taste of you."

A whimper escaped from Teddy's throat before he even realised it. His father was being more honest today than he'd ever been in the past, and it made Teddy sick inside at the same time as it made him love and desire his father all the more.

Remus pushed Teddy's knees apart gently, kissing and licking his way up Teddy's thighs as he'd done only a little while earlier, but this time, Teddy knew Remus had a different destination. He heard his father whisper the cleansing spell, and a moment later felt the cool tingle that meant his arse was ready for Remus's tongue to breach it.

"Oh, please," he said, his voice a mere breath, and Remus murmured _Yes_ against the skin at the crease where Teddy's thigh met his groin, and Teddy spread wider and arched up, ready for his father's tongue.

Remus slipped his hands under Teddy's arse, each palm cupping a cheek, to lift Teddy up and spread him wider still. Teddy watched Remus's face hover for a moment, his nose brushing Teddy's perineum--he's _smelling_ me, Teddy realised, and it should have seemed filthy but somehow it wasn't, it made Teddy's heart ache instead to see how his father was taking this opportunity to memorise everything about Teddy that he possibly could.

Then Remus's mouth opened and his tongue darted out, and Teddy stopped thinking about anything except how good he felt. He loved it when Andrew rimmed him, but Remus had years and years of practise at this, and it showed. Remus pressed tiny kisses all around Teddy's arsehole, spiralling inward, and when he reached the centre his tongue slithered deep inside in one push. Teddy gasped.

He heard Remus chuckle, felt the vibrations of his father's laughter as just another stimulus that made him quiver, his cock stirring though his recent orgasm had been far too powerful to let him grow hard again yet.

Teddy reached between his own legs to brush at Remus's hair, flopping forward and tickling Teddy slightly. Remus's hands grasped Teddy's thighs more tightly as his tongue speared into his son.

" _Dad_ ," Teddy moaned, his hands falling back to his sides and gripping the duvet. He tried not to push his hips forward, but he couldn't help it; he needed _more_ , he _needed_ Remus to fuck him, put the cock he'd been imagining for months inside his arse.

Rocking against Remus's tongue, lost in sensation as Remus's fingers began to massage his flesh, Teddy barely heard his father say, "Lube now--it might be cold," and so he flinched when Remus's warm tongue disappeared and the cool gel touched him.

"Ssh, ssh," said Remus soothingly. He held Teddy's right thigh up with one hand. "You're doing beautifully, Ted, you're nearly ready. One finger first, although you could probably take two right now."

Remus's forefinger was more poky than a plug, but he quickly found and stroked over Teddy's prostate a few times before slipping out and returning with two fingers at once. Teddy welcomed them, rocking against Remus's hand.

"More, please," he begged, and Remus pushed a third finger in, filling Teddy almost as much as the large plug did, except that it was lovely to think that Remus was feeling him inside, taking what should be dirty and making it into joy.

"Ted... Teddy, my boy." Remus's voice broke. "Are you ready?"

"I'm ready. Please. I want you so much."

"I know, son," said Remus, and he brushed his lips over Teddy's. "I want you, too. Now, breathe."

Before Teddy quite understood why Remus was reminding him to breathe, Remus had slipped his fingers from Teddy and hauled himself up so that the tip of his cock was nudging at Teddy's entrance.

" _Breathe_ ," Remus said again. "I'll go slowly. I promise." He kissed Teddy's forehead, where beads of sweat were gathering, and Teddy finally started to breathe again, hyper-aware of the cock that was about to breach him.

And when it did-- _finally_ , after so many months of waiting--it was wholly unlike anything Teddy had expected.

He was accustomed to the warmth of a tongue, the flexibility of long fingers, the bulk of a plug. But Remus's cock was warmer, more alive, than anything that had ever been inside Teddy, though but an inch of it had breached him.

He let out a choked cry, clutching at his father, dragging him down for a kiss that contained everything Teddy had ever wanted to say to his father, but couldn't, quite. And Remus kissed him back, hard, all the while rocking his hips back and forth, thrusting himself further and further into Teddy until after what felt like an eternity, but wasn't quite long enough, Remus moaned into the kiss and sank home, his bollocks coming to rest against Teddy's skin.

Teddy was stretched beyond what he had once thought his limit. He wanted badly to hold his breath, but forced himself to breathe, reminding himself that this was what he had wanted, craved, sought after all these months.

He expelled a great breath and opened his eyes to find Remus gazing down at him, concern furrowing his brow and lust clouding his eyes.

"Are you all right, Teddy?" Remus asked.

Teddy gave a nod. "I'm all right. Just--if you could wait just a minute before you start to move, please?" His voice was raspy, and he swallowed hard.

Remus smiled and kissed him. "Of course," he said, though Teddy could tell it was taking a great effort for Remus to refrain from fucking him.

"I can't believe your cock's finally inside me," Teddy dared to say. "I can't believe you're finally going to fuck me, Dad."

"I can't either." Remus's voice was a rough whisper. "I..."

"You what?"

Remus shook his head. "It doesn't matter. All right?"

"Yeah." Teddy kept breathing carefully, trying hard to relax. He was so keyed up at the very thought of Remus's cock inside him that he thought he could have flown without a broomstick, or fought a dragon without a wand. "Um. I think you can move now."

He should have known that his father would be careful, Teddy thought hazily as Remus started to move, slow and gentle thrusts that were almost too mild. Then Remus shifted slightly, and Teddy gasped as Remus's cock rubbed against his prostate.

Remus caught Teddy's reaction and hummed, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled. "How does this feel?"

"Wicked. Amazing," he substituted hastily, realising that "wicked" had meanings he didn't want to imply. It didn't feel wicked or wrong at all. It felt right, just right, that his father should be teaching him everything he so badly yearned to know.

"I'm going to move a little faster now," Remus said, but he kept up the same rhythm until Teddy nodded acceptance.

As Remus's strokes became longer, faster, Teddy marvelled at his father's self-control. Tentatively he put his arms around Remus, caressing his back and arse, and Remus said, "That's lovely, Ted, go on."

Teddy smiled to hear Remus still using his teaching voice--a close approximation of it anyhow--when he was, well, fucking. Maybe he could get Remus to lose some of that control? Not that it was going to be easy for Teddy to keep his own voice steady, under the circumstances.

"It feels amazing, like I said, Dad," he began. "I've imagined this so many times, you probably wouldn't believe it, but it's better than I ever imagined. _God._ You said that a plug was different from a cock. You're right. It's like, I don't know, like being part of you, and it's so good, I can't believe you're really fucking me, Dad, I love it so much, I wish it never had to end, I really do."

Remus's face had gone red before Teddy was a third of the way through, and his thrusts had sped up too, although Teddy wasn't sure Remus was aware he was doing so.

"Your cock is so big in my arse, so full, god, just fuck me, please, don't stop, don't, please..." Teddy had started to babble, he knew, but he didn't care, because Remus was growling and panting and thrusting hard, _harder_ , the way Teddy wanted him to, not teaching any more, just fucking.

"I'm going to come, Teddy," Remus growled, "I'm going to come inside you." He said it through clenched teeth, as if it took his greatest effort to form the words, and Teddy threw his legs wider apart and arched up towards his father. He wanted to touch himself; his cock was hard again now between their bodies, but he wouldn't. Not yet. He would have his turn--this was his father's time.

"Yes, Dad, please, I want it, _please_ ," he babbled, and it was true, he didn't, _couldn't_ want anything more at that moment than to have Remus come inside him, filling him with the seed that had created him.

And then Remus did, wrapping his arms tightly around Teddy, holding Teddy immobile as he thrust once, twice, thrice more into him, then shuddered and shouted and groaned his way through his orgasm, and Teddy knew it was happening, _really_ happening; he could feel the hot rush of fluid inside him, could feel Remus's cock pulsing in his arse, and he held still, wide-eyed and clutching at his father as Remus began to come down from his orgasm.

"My boy," Remus finally managed against the skin of Teddy's chest, his breathing ragged. Teddy could feel Remus's heart pounding against his own, and the sensation made him feel slightly sick.

"My boy, my Teddy. I've wanted this for so long."  



	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus and Teddy complete their final lesson. Teddy and Andrew take care of Remus's plants--and something else--when Sam and Remus go on holiday.

Remus drew in a shuddering breath and raised his head from where it lay on his son's chest.

"Teddy," he said, "My boy. Come here." And he took Teddy's face with both hands and kissed his silent mouth.

"Dad," Teddy finally said, when they had broken the kiss, "Dad--that was--oh, _god_." Remus himself was similarly incoherent; in response, he just held Teddy close, their sweat-damp chests sticking together. His cock was softening inside Teddy's arse, but he didn't want to break their connection yet. He _couldn't_ let it go. Not yet.

Instead, he covered Teddy's face and neck with languorous kisses, not regretting a moment of what they had just done--and, though he was spent and probably wouldn't get hard again, still anticipating what was yet to come.

He knew Teddy was hard, could feel the boy's erection, insistent between their bodies, but wondered if he could possibly convince his son to take a bit of a break between rounds. With a sigh, he shifted, slipping out of Teddy's loosened hole, and Teddy cried out and clutched at him when he realised what was going on, but too late, Remus had already done it. He lay next to Teddy on his side, propping his head up on his elbow, stroking his son's hair.

"Gorgeous," he said, echoing Teddy's words from earlier. "My boy."

Moisture glistened on Teddy's cheek. Remus suddenly realised that it was tears, not sweat. "Ted?" he asked, his voice rough with fear that he'd hurt Teddy after all. "Are you all right?"

Teddy nodded, but then his face crumpled and he let out a sob, pressing against Remus's chest. Remus automatically put his arms around his son, patting his back. Teddy _never_ cried--not even when he had fallen off his broom during the summer holiday when he was twelve, and it had been three hours before they had gotten him to St Mungo's to have his broken arm mended.

His words were half-incoherent, spoken into Remus's skin. "'S okay--just wanted--not hurt--oh, I want--never--love you." Teddy lifted a blotchy face. "I didn't say it _then_. I didn't. I love you, Dad."

It was a good thing Teddy hadn't said it while Remus was still inside him, that was true. Too much, too confusing. But now, now, there was only one more step in their lessons, and Remus need not maintain the same level of control for that one. He could manage, even if he said, "I love you, too," and kissed Teddy the way he had kissed Sirius long ago. Afterward, though, he was compelled to add, "Not as I love Sam, or as maybe you'll love someone someday, whether Andrew or someone else. But I do love you."

Teddy's face went even pinker. He looked away and mumbled, "I know. I--I do love Andrew. I told him so. And he loves me."

"Oh, Ted." Remus pulled Teddy closer again, having no other way to express how glad he was. Andrew had his problems, but didn't everyone? If Teddy loved him, and the feeling was reciprocated, Remus couldn't be anything but happy for his son.

With a sigh, Teddy kissed Remus's shoulder. "I guess the way I feel about Andrew isn't exactly the same as I feel about you, Dad. But I'm not at all sorry for what we've done, honestly I'm not. Only that it's nearly over."

"I understand." Remus said. "You know I was reluctant to agree to begin with, and it hasn't been easy." Now _that_ was an understatement. "In fact, I've found it extremely difficult at times, trying to balance what you wanted with what I could give, and not let either of us become too emotionally attached in ways that could be harmful. But I think we've managed."

"We have... mostly, anyhow."

"Good." Remus thought that was an apt description of his own feelings on the matter. Mostly he was all right with the realisation both that he'd actually fucked his son, and that he never would again--but there would always be a small stab of guilt to have done it, and a pang of regret to know that there would never be another time.

He stroked Teddy's back a moment longer, holding him close, then cleared his throat. "I suppose you're ready to..." he said, trailing off, and for a moment, he was ashamed at himself for being unable to say it, when all along he'd been honest with his son, using all the proper terminology.

"I'm... not, actually," Teddy said. "Um." He looked down, and so did Remus, to find that Teddy's erection had softened between them--Remus assumed it had happened when Teddy had become overwhelmed by emotion.

"It's all right," said Remus, "I believe that's happened to every man on the planet once or twice." He gave a chuckle. "Just be glad you're a teenager and _can_ get stiff again, and not an old man like me." He couldn't help but indulge in a little self-deprecation.

"Dad, don't," said Teddy in the softest, most earnestly pleading voice Remus had ever heard him use. "Please. Not today."

Remus knew Teddy was right, and he said so, and kissed him. "I'm sorry," he added.

When they had kissed and caressed each other a while longer, Remus manoeuvred a hand between them and gave a few soft touches to Teddy's half-hard cock in an attempt to reawaken it. Teddy hummed and pressed forward into Remus's hand, his eyes closed and his head thrown back. Remus studied the look of intense concentration on his son's face, memorising it.

Everything inside Remus wanted him to stop what he was doing. He wasn't ready physically to be fucked by his son--his ageing body wanted to roll over and take a nap more than anything else--and he wasn't ready emotionally to have it all over with. But they couldn't lounge about with each other all day--though Remus planned for them to do a fair amount of that after Teddy had fucked him--and it had to end at some point. It had to. And so, despite his protesting body and his quavering emotions, Remus did his best to coax Teddy's cock back into a state of stiffness.

"Hold on," Teddy said when his cock proved to be somewhat reluctant. "Maybe we should take these off." He indicated the clamps adorning his nipples.

"Are you sure?" Remus asked. "You do remember how much they hurt the first time?"

Teddy nodded. "Yeah, but, um, I kind of like that hurt. And they're becoming a bit--I don't know. I can feel them, but I'm numb, so they're not really doing anything for me anymore. But if you took them off me..."

"Yes," said Remus, when Teddy trailed off, and he left off stroking Teddy's half-erection and began to unscrew the clamps that held Teddy's nipples captive.

"Ah-- _fuck_ ," Teddy swore as the blood rushed back to the area, and Remus reached down quickly to see what the result was. Teddy's cock was stiffening further, and Remus kissed Teddy's nipples as it became fully hard in his hand. It was evident that Teddy enjoyed a bit of pain; maybe more than a bit, even, judging from his questions about that topic earlier. Well, so had Sirius, on occasion, and so had one or two of Remus's other lovers over the years.

Remus licked over the slightly swollen flesh where the clamps had pinched hardest. "Okay, Ted?"

"Yeah." Teddy let out a shuddering sigh and shifted a little. "Feels good."

"Good." With one more kiss to each nipple, Remus sat back. "Now. You wanted us facing each other before, and that was fine. But it's probably better, especially your first time, if I'm on my hands and knees and you're behind me; the angle is easier, and there's less to distract you. Plus, I have to warn you that I'm not sure how long I would be able to hold another position."

Teddy's face was soft with disappointment. "So you're saying we can't look at each other when I'm inside you."

"I'm sorry. I know you'd prefer that, but my honest opinion is that what I'm suggesting will be better for both of us," said Remus.

After a long moment Teddy nodded. "Okay, if you think that, then I'll accept it."

"The other thing I want to say before you start is that you shouldn't worry if I don't come again. As I hinted, I simply might not be able to, and that's _not_ a reflection on you at all; just of the fact that I'm not as young as I used to be. It doesn't mean I won't be enjoying it, either." Remus touched Teddy's cheek. "I'm sure I will."

"I hope so," said Teddy, looking serious. "You made it so good for me, I want you to feel good too."

Remus smiled. "I'll talk while we're doing it, shall I? Since you won't be able to see my face, that will help you know how I'm feeling." The way Teddy had had such a filthy mouth while Remus was fucking him had been far more arousing than Remus had expected, and he rather anticipated returning the favour.

" _Yes_ ," Teddy said enthusiastically. "Please. That would be great." He put his arms around Remus and kissed him again, overwhelming in the sheer forceful eagerness of it.

Remus couldn't help but laugh, a laugh of sheer blissful happiness unshadowed by the ever-nearing end of all of their lessons, forever. He kissed Teddy back, then held him at arm's length for a moment.

Teddy squirmed, and he gave a laugh, too. "What is it, Dad?"

"I just wanted to get a good look at the man who's going to fuck me," Remus said, surprising Teddy, and surprising himself a little, too.

"Oh," said Teddy, colouring. "Well." Clearly, he didn't know how to respond to Remus's statement, but Remus didn't regret saying it.

Remus drew him close again and kissed him, then sat up. "All right," he said. "Are you ready to do this?"

Teddy nodded violently. "Yes. _Yes_. Can I lick you, first, please, like you did to me?"

Remus swallowed. "Oh, god, Teddy. Yes. Of course you can. I want you to." And he did, but more, he wanted Teddy to have the same opportunity he'd taken himself when he'd licked Teddy--to revel in the smell of the most intimate part of him, to perhaps store it away somewhere in his memory.

He got on his hands and knees, and Teddy settled himself behind him and whispered the cleansing spell. Remus felt Teddy's hands running over his thighs and buttocks, then Teddy spread him open and pressed kisses all down his crack, over his hole, and onto his perineum and bollocks as well. Then Remus felt Teddy's nose nuzzling him--yes, Teddy was taking the opportunity presented to him. Remus knew that scent was the strongest sense tied to memory. He knew he would always remember the way Teddy smelled--and he hoped Teddy would remember him, too.

When Teddy's tongue finally swiped over his hole, Remus shuddered, and his cock made a feeble attempt at a twitch. He pressed back against Teddy's intruding tongue and remembered he'd promised to talk while they were doing this.

"God, Teddy, that's wonderful," he gasped. "If I were eighteen years old, I'd be hard as a bloody rock right now. As it is, you're turning me on--god, _yes_ , son, just like that." For Teddy had pushed forward, working his tongue past the tight muscle that guarded Remus's hole, making enthusiastic noises as he explored.

"My good boy," he continued, "yes, keep it up, you're _brilliant_."

Teddy made a noise that Remus interpreted as embarrassment at the praise, but his hands clutched more tightly at Remus's thighs, and his tongue slipped deeper.

"That's lovely, oh yes, press your lips to me and try sucking-- _oh_ , just like that, mm, you can touch my bollocks too, yes, wonderful." Remus stopped himself from adding _Andrew doesn't know how lucky he is_. He thought it, but selfishly he didn't want to say it, didn't want to have Teddy thinking about anyone else just now.

"Oh, that feels good, Ted, however long you want to do this I'm happy to have you keep on with it." And Remus kept talking, repeating himself as he continued to tell Teddy how hot it felt to have his son rimming him, how much it excited him.

At last, though, Teddy pulled away, resting his forehead against one of Remus's buttocks for a moment. "My jaw's tired," he said apologetically.

Remus craned his neck around to look at his son. "That's perfectly all right," he said reassuringly, and Teddy nodded and reached for the lube.

"Guess I'll go on, then."

Remus saw Teddy swallow hard as he slicked his cock, and then Teddy's fingers were on Remus, the lube cool for an instant but quickly warming as Teddy slathered it on. Teddy closed the bottle and tossed it aside, taking a deep breath.

"Should I stretch you some more, like you did to me?"

"You needn't. Take it slowly, and I'll be fine." Remus suspected that Teddy would have some trouble holding back if he had to wait much longer; he let his head fall forward again as his son's cock pressed against his waiting arsehole.

"Go on, Ted," murmured Remus. "Slow and steady, that's right."

He felt the stretch as Teddy breached him.

"Careful--not too fast," Remus reminded Teddy.

"Sorry, sorry," Teddy said, and slowed down, pushing steadily but showing admirable restraint in not slamming home; Remus knew that he himself would not have been as thoughtful at that age.

Teddy's cock was warm and solid inside him. Remus let out a contented breath. It should have felt wrong. It should have felt utterly, utterly wrong--and yet it felt completely right to Remus, to have his son inside him.

He bowed his head, just listening to Teddy's breathing and to his own, feeling the grip of Teddy's fingertips on his hips, the bulk of Teddy's cock in his hole.

"You can go ahead and move now, Teddy," he said after a moment, and before he had even finished his sentence, Teddy had started to thrust, just short thrusts at first, but soon he gained confidence as Remus encouraged him and he began to fuck Remus in earnest.

"Oh, my god, _Dad_ ," Teddy gasped behind him, moving even faster. "Dad, I can't believe--this is _brilliant_!"

He sounded so childlike, so wondering, that Remus couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, Teddy. I do love you." The words slipped out before he'd realised he was going to say them, but when he paused to measure their effect, they didn't feel strange. Besides, Teddy was too caught up in doing what he was doing, Remus supposed, to overthink such simple words.

"You're so good at this," Remus said, and it was true--though his rhythm was rough, Teddy seemed to be taking well to his occupation, and Remus was about to continue praising him when Teddy shifted and hit Remus's prostate.

Remus gasped, seeing stars, and his cock twitched with interest.

"Is that it, Dad?" Teddy asked. "Did I--fuck--did I hit it?"

"You did," Remus choked, and he gave his cock a few light touches. He knew he wouldn't--couldn't--get hard again, but it felt good to touch himself nonetheless.

"Dad, I--I don't think I'm going to last," Teddy confessed then. "I'm sorry--fuck--"

Remus shook his head. "Don't be sorry, Teddy. Do what feels good. I want you to come inside me."

Just saying those words sent a thrill through him, the breaking of a taboo an excitement like nothing else.

"Ohgod, _yes_." Teddy's voice was strangled. He sped up, slamming into Remus's hips. "Going to--ohfuck, oh, _Dad_!"

Teddy collapsed over Remus's back, panting in hot bursts against his skin. Remus eased himself down into a more comfortable position where his knees wouldn't ache with holding up the weight of an extra body, and felt Teddy's cock slip a little, letting a trickle of semen drip across Remus's bollocks.

"That was brilliant," said Teddy again, mumbling sleepily. He pressed kisses onto Remus's shoulder. "Really."

Remus didn't want to lose the last contact, but he wanted to see Teddy's face, hold him close, so he urged, "Roll over." When Teddy had slid off his back, Remus turned over and pulled Teddy to him, regardless of sweat and come pooling sticky on their skins.

"You were pretty brilliant yourself," Remus said softly, kissing Teddy's closed eyelids. Teddy smiled.

"Thanks, Dad. For a first time, you mean."

"Not just for a first time," contradicted Remus. He smoothed Teddy's sweat-damp fringe back from his forehead. "I've been with men who had years of experience and were less good as lovers than you were just now. It's not just the number of times you have sex, it's _how_ you do it, paying attention to your partner as well as yourself."

Teddy's face went pink and he burrowed it into Remus's neck. "I tried to do it like you did, that's all."

Warmth spread throughout Remus's body at the words. "That's the best compliment you could possibly give me." All his indecision about whether he should teach Teddy in this way, all the guilt and discomfort he'd felt from time to time--none of that meant anything compared with the trust and respect implied by Teddy's simple statement.

A yawn overtook him. "Sorry--no comment on you, I assure you."

Teddy laughed. "I'm kind of wiped out myself now."

"Would you like to sleep?" Remus asked, and he held out his arms.

Teddy burrowed into the embrace. "More than anything, Dad," he answered.

Remus realised, as Teddy snuggled against him, that they hadn't cuddled close and slept like this since Teddy was a very small boy. Perhaps, he hoped, when they awoke, they would have come full circle--from father and son to the lovers Remus swore they would never be, and back to just father and son again.

As he listened to Teddy's breathing evening out, Remus tried to reflect coherently on all they had done together, but he was really as tired as he had said, and soon he found himself drifting, holding Teddy close.

He awoke suddenly from a dream he couldn't quite remember, convinced that Sam was in the house. He froze and clutched Teddy to him, listening for the slightest creak of floorboards or shriek of door hinges.

He held his breath and listened.

When he heard nothing, he forced himself to believe it was all a part of his dream, and he breathed again and rolled over and looked at the clock. It was early evening--he and Teddy had had a nice long nap together.

He awakened his son with kisses, some of the last, he knew, that they would ever share--the last of this nature, anyway. He kissed Teddy on the forehead and on his eyelids, on his nose and on both cheeks, and finally on his mouth, rousing Teddy from the depths of sleep.

"Time to wake up, Ted," he coaxed, and Teddy moaned and stretched with seeming reluctance, not opening his eyes.

"I was having the nicest dream," he murmured, and he pressed a languorous kiss to Remus's chest.

"It's over now, though, Ted," Remus said, brushing a lock of hair from Teddy's forehead. "Time to wake."

Teddy grumbled and sighed but finally opened his eyes, blinking the sleep from them. "'m all sticky."

"So am I. Just a minute." Remus crawled a little stiffly out of bed and went to the bathroom. Dampening a towel under the tap, he glanced in the mirror and laughed softly at the red creases over his face. He wiped himself down, then rinsed the towel and took it back to the bedroom where Teddy was now sitting with his feet dangling over the side of the bed.

After a moment's hesitation, he said, "Stand up." He cleaned Teddy off as impersonally as he could, ignoring the way that Teddy's cock responded to his touches. "You can shower if you'd rather?"

"No." Teddy shook his head almost violently. "No, this is fine." He began to pull on his clothes, and Remus did likewise.

"I was going to cook a roast for us, but it's later than I expected. How would you feel about just getting some takeaway?" Remus asked. "Curry or fish and chips or whatever you'd like."

"Fish and chips," Teddy decided. "I haven't had that since Christmas Eve, I don't think."

Teddy went to fetch their dinner, and Remus tidied up the bedroom, clearing away all traces of their activity except those that lingered in his own body, and those would be gone soon enough. He went to his study and found the piece of parchment on which he'd written out the plan for their lessons, still disguised as a grocery list, and put it away with a few other very private mementos. By the time he'd done all that, Teddy was back again, pulling out plates from the cupboard and putting the fish and chips and peas on them.

"I just want to ask, Ted," said Remus, sprinkling vinegar over his portion with a lavish hand, "how you're feeling about everything I've taught you, now."

Teddy poked at his fish with his fork, then nibbled at a chip before answering. "I'm not sorry about any of it, if that's what you mean."

"Well, that, but I was wondering more if you thought it was worthwhile. The whole point was so that you'd learn at least the basics in a way that wouldn't be dangerous, as it might have been with a stranger or even with another boy your own age like Andrew who didn't know much either. So do you feel like you learned what you hoped?"

Teddy turned his face towards Remus's gaze, and he gave a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes--a smile that Remus didn't quite believe. "I definitely do," he said.

Remus didn't want to push, but he knew they wouldn't have another chance to have this conversation, and he needed an answer to his question, if only to settle his own mind. So he asked again.

"Somehow, Ted, I don't quite believe you. Are you sure?"

Teddy ducked his head and murmured something that sounded like _I'll get over it_.

"What's that, Ted?" Remus was genuinely curious now, and he paused with a chip halfway to his mouth.

"Sorry. I." Teddy lifted his head again. "I just said I'm probably going to take a while to get over this--not being able to have you anymore, not in the way we've been doing. But, yes, Dad, I really did learn everything I'd hoped to learn, and, um. Thank you. So much."

Remus bit into the chip and chewed thoughtfully, then reached over and gave his son's hand a squeeze. "If it makes you feel better, Ted, you're not the only one who learned quite a bit during our encounters. Though what I learned is probably harder to describe in words, trust that I did learn plenty."

"Oh. Okay." Teddy clearly had no idea what Remus was talking about, but that was just as well, Remus supposed.

"Sam and I are going to be leaving for our holiday the weekend after next," Remus said, surprising even himself with how rapidly he switched subjects. "Is there anything you'd like me to bring back from France for you?"

"Oh--um. No. I don't think so," Teddy replied. Remus would bring Teddy back a souvenir anyway, and he made a mental note to bring something for Andrew as well.

"I suppose you and Andrew will have a good time while we're gone," said Remus, with no need for a wink or a nudge--he was sure Teddy knew exactly what he meant. "Do you think the two of you could manage to water my houseplants?"

"How long are you going to be gone?"

"About ten days. We're taking a late Portkey on Friday evening, and we'll be back Sunday night the following week. Most of the plants would be all right, but the ferns need water more often than that."

"Sure, Dad. Write up a list of when each should be watered and we'll do it." Teddy swiped a finger through the drips of vinegar and scattered salt on his plate and sucked it. Remus swallowed and glanced down, concentrating on picking up a forkful of peas. "Um. Would it be all right if I, we, stayed overnight maybe? You know Andrew likes to cook, and your kitchen has every kind of weird spice and odd-shaped pan he could ever want to use."

"That's a pretty transparent excuse, but yes, you may stay here while I'm gone. Just leave the place tidy, all right?"

"Of course." Teddy put on a mock-indignant face. "What do you think I'd do?"

"Leave it the way your flat usually looks." Remus raised his eyebrows. "You may borrow any of my books, too, if you want."

Teddy grinned. "I'd like that. We, uh, looked through one of them together last time. Andrew thought it was cool that you lent them to me. Maybe I'll take a couple away tonight."

"That's fine. I'll owl you the plant-watering list sometime in the next two weeks." Remus stood and started to clear away the plates. "There's some treacle tart in the cupboard if you want any."

"No thanks." Teddy came up behind Remus and put his arms around Remus's waist. "I should probably be going; I told Andrew I'd Floo-call him tonight when I get home."

Remus turned around to hug Teddy properly. "All right. I'm very happy for you that things are going well with Andrew, and I hope they keep on that way."

"Me, too." Teddy's hair was changing colour to magenta, but when he saw that Remus had noticed it, he put it back to brown. "I'm glad you're going on your holiday with Sam, myself. I mean, not that I'm glad you're going away. Glad that it's with Sam. He's great."

"Yes, he is." Remus felt his mouth stretch in a fond smile. He gave Teddy one last squeeze, then let go.

"You should get home," he said, "And I should--" he looked at the clock; he had been going to say "get to bed", but it was much earlier than he thought. "I should make a Floo call myself," he amended. He would call Sam; they could talk a bit about their upcoming trip and Remus could tell him that everything was all right with Teddy.

"Okay," said Teddy, and he gave a resolute sort of nod. He almost looked as if he were going to say something else, but he just shut his mouth and shook his head and smiled.

"I'll see you, Dad," he said, and he turned and walked towards the fireplace.

Remus watched him go, a hand raised in farewell.

He would see his son soon enough.

* * *

  


 _Dear Ted (and Andrew, too),_

Salut from Marseille! Sam and I are having a lovely time. I wish he'd convinced me to come away sooner. The weather is fantastic, and Sam even managed to get me into the water for a little while--I'm still not sure how he did that. We've had some wonderful meals, and the weather's been

"Sam!" Remus laughed, "I'm writing to Ted!"

"So I see," replied Sam, nuzzling at Remus's neck and encircling him with his arms, "But this is _our_ holiday. Or have you forgotten?" He took the postcard and the silly Muggle biro from Remus's hands and tugged him up from his seat. "You can finish that postcard later," he said, "after you've shagged me rotten."

"That can be arranged, I think," said Remus, and he left the desk and let Sam pull him down upon the bed.

Sam kissed Remus's fingers, lingering longest on the one where a gold ring shone.

* * *

  
"It's weird to be here without your dad," Andrew said, looking around the kitchen. "He's just so _there_ , if you know what I mean?"

Teddy nodded. "He said it was fine, though. I should probably water the plants first thing so I don't forget. Come on. You can start playing with the fish poacher and the bamboo steamer and whatever else later." He pulled the slightly crumpled list of instructions out of his pocket and smoothed it, although he had pretty well memorised what needed to be done; it wasn't difficult, just remembering all the places his dad had plants and watering all of them.

He'd mentally planned out the route through the house. In each room he stole a kiss or a grope with Andrew, which at first Andrew resisted--"It's your dad's house!"--but Teddy pointed out that they weren't hurting anything and that Remus wouldn't be back for a week.

Kitchen, living room, study, Remus's bedroom; there were no plants in Teddy's old room, as he'd invariably managed to kill them, and Remus hadn't yet put anything new in. The last place they went to was the spare room, where a large and somewhat dusty philodendron lurked in a corner near the window.

"There," said Teddy, setting the watering can down with a flourish, "that's that."

Andrew had sat down on the edge of the bed while Teddy was watering the philodendron, and Teddy took that as a good sign. Before Andrew could get up, he went over and stood before him, taking a deep breath before he spoke.

"Andrew."

"What is it?" Andrew raised his thin face to Teddy's.

"I--we've talked about having sex, proper sex, when we were both ready for it." Teddy swallowed. "I am if you are."

"Today? Now? _Here_?" Andrew looked doubtful. "Why not in your flat, or mine? Or at least in your bedroom?"

"Call it superstition. If we did it in my bedroom here, I'd probably never be able to get to sleep there again, I'd be too hard thinking about you. Same in either of our flats." Teddy grinned. "You don't want to give me insomnia, do you?"

That wasn't the real reason, of course. Much as Teddy had appreciated the way that Remus had done up his own bedroom for their final lesson, since all of the others had taken place here in the spare room, he'd sort of missed finishing them off here. Having sex with Andrew here instead felt like it would round things off nicely.

Andrew gave Teddy a half-smile. "I definitely wouldn't want to be the cause of insomnia," he said.

"Good," Teddy replied, and he sat beside Andrew and leaned over to give him a long, slow kiss. Teddy put one hand on Andrew's knee and Andrew put one hand on Teddy's shoulder and they kissed there for a long time until the kiss grew too intense, and Teddy broke it off, panting slightly.

"Were you thinking, um--" said Andrew, but he cut himself off before he could finish.

Teddy took in Andrew's flushed face and reddened lips, and it was a moment before he answered. "Was I thinking what?" he finally asked.

"You know--did you want to be on top, or on bottom?" Andrew asked. He leaned forward for another kiss before Teddy could properly answer--almost before he had finished asking the question--and Teddy's mind reeled. Which _did_ he want? He had certainly enjoyed being the one to penetrate Remus at the end of their last lesson, but in the moment, with Andrew, he thought he might want quite the opposite. He wasn't sure how ready he was to be inside anyone but Remus, though he knew he wasn't supposed to be thinking like that.

"I want you inside me," he said between kisses, his lips still resting against Andrew's.

"You--are you sure?" Andrew pulled his face away, and Teddy blinked, then gave a single nod.

"Definitely," he said. "More sure than I've ever been of anything, I think." He hoped that didn't sound like overkill, but it was true.

A grin broke over Andrew's face. "I want that, too," he said, "so I was kind of hoping you might say that. I mean--not that the other wouldn't have been brilliant, too, I'm sure, but--well."

"You don't have to say it. I know." And Teddy smiled and reached for the buttons of Andrew's shirt and began to unfasten them. Andrew let out a breath that came in shudders and tipped back his head and let Teddy undress him, and Teddy pressed kisses to each inch of skin that he revealed. Of course they had been naked together before, many times, but this--this was something special.

When Andrew was naked--and sporting an erection that Teddy had had no small part in creating, between kisses and licks and nibbles--he began to undress Teddy, copying Teddy's kisses and caresses, but Teddy couldn't help noticing that Andrew seemed the tiniest bit distracted.

"Sorry," Andrew said when Teddy asked him if everything was all right. "I just--we left the door open, and I can't help but think your father's going to walk in at any moment. I _know_ they're on holiday, but still..." He trailed off, giving Teddy a little twist of a smile.

Teddy flicked his wand at the door and it slammed shut, then he pounced on Andrew, knocking him flat on his back on the bed. "Better?" he asked.

"Better." Andrew grinned and wriggled, pushing his cock against Teddy's. "Thanks. I know it's silly."

"Nah, it's a kind of creaky old house. I've lived here my whole life and I still sometimes think there's another person around even when I know there isn't." Teddy rubbed his nose on Andrew's neck. "Where were we?"

"Undressing you," said Andrew, and proceeded to finish the job by pulling off Teddy's socks and pants. He paused then and said, "Um--you do have lube, right?"

"It's in my pocket," Teddy admitted, leaning over the side of the bed to grab his trousers and fish out the tube. "I was hoping you'd be okay with the idea of doing it here."

Andrew shook his head. "Perv, planning to have sex in your dad's house, even if he's not home." But his look of disapproval was clearly a pretence, as he put his arms around Teddy and whispered in his ear, "I'm glad you brought it."

"I didn't bring a plug or anything though, to loosen things up." Teddy bit his lip.

"That's okay," Andrew said immediately. "I expect fingers will do, yeah? But, um, we'd probably better be getting on with it." His face went pink. "Only I'm not sure how long I can wait."

Teddy smirked slightly. "Why'd you think I said I wanted to bottom? Just kidding--you'll be fine, I'm sure. Want me to do the lube for myself, though?"

"If you would. I'd like to watch you do it." Andrew was still blushing. Teddy decided that maybe this was not the time to try to put on a show, as he did _not_ want Andrew to come as soon as they started.

"Okay." He curled up a little on his side, facing Andrew, and raised his upper knee almost to his shoulder so that Andrew could see what he was doing, then squeezed some of the slippery gel onto his fingers and reached down to finger his arsehole.

"God, you look sexy, Ted," Andrew said, his eyes dilated. "Remember those pictures we looked at in those books of your dad's? Think we could manage to shag face to face, just like this?"

Teddy finished lubricating himself and knit his eyebrows together as he brought his hand up and wiped it on the duvet. "I don't know," he said. "It seems like it could be a bit tricky. Maybe we could start--here, like this--" He rolled onto his back and turned his head so he was still facing Andrew. "Me on my back, yeah? And then if we want to roll onto our sides, we're already connected?"

Andrew smiled and straddled Teddy, stroking his own erection. "And if we don't, well, we're already face-to-face."

"That's the idea, yeah," said Teddy, and he smiled and kissed Andrew and began touching himself as well. There was already precome welling in his slit, and he smeared it all around the head of his cock.

"All right," said Andrew, and he braced himself with one hand and slipped the other between Teddy's legs. "Do you want me to--?" he asked, and he pushed the very tip of one finger inside Teddy's arsehole.

"Oh, _fuck_ , _yes_ , I want you to," Teddy gasped, and he drew up his knees and pushed down on Andrew's finger, greedy for more, which Andrew gave him.

Andrew slipped in a second digit after a minute, and finally a third, stretching Teddy as he gasped and writhed.

"That's good," Teddy finally said. "That's fine. Enough. I want you now."

"I want you," said Andrew, shifting positions. "I want you _too_ , I mean. Fuck--I can't believe we're about to do this." He positioned himself between Teddy's legs, and Teddy drew his knees up further as Andrew's cockhead nudged his entrance.

Teddy's eyes went wide, and he looked at Andrew's face--Andrew's eyes were just as wide, and his mouth hung slightly open.

"Are you ready?" Andrew breathed.

"Absolutely," replied Teddy, and Andrew began to push.

" _Oh_ ," they said in unison, and then Andrew said, "God, that's--tight, ohgod, so good," and Teddy said, "Please--can you stop for a second," and breathed hard, trying to relax and get used to the feeling which was very much like when it had been Remus inside him, but in an indefinable way different too.

"Sorry, yes, you all right?" asked Andrew worriedly. He was bracing himself up with both hands, and over his eye had fallen a lock of hair which he blew at. Teddy reached up and brushed it off Andrew's forehead.

"Yeah, just need a minute to get used to it." He shifted his hips slightly. "Okay, go on."

Andrew pushed more slowly now but steadily until his cock was all the way inside Teddy's arse. "Oh, _Ted_." He looked like he might cry. Red-faced and sweaty, he lowered his head and brushed his lips over Teddy's. "I'm _really_ close. Fuck. If I move I think I'm going to come."

"Don't move then," said Teddy. "You feel good just like that anyhow." It _did_ feel good, warm and full and close.

He waited, watching Andrew's face, until Andrew gulped and nodded and said, "I think I can go on a bit now. It's not like anything--well, we'll try it the other way 'round sometime and you'll see."

Then Andrew pulled out, maybe halfway Teddy guessed, and started thrusting into Teddy's arse. Teddy could tell he was trying not to do it too hard or fast. He wasn't brushing over Teddy's prostate the way Remus had done, but Teddy realised that Andrew was probably too distracted to even think about trying to do that, so he gripped his own softened cock and stroked it instead.

"Ohfuck, ohfuck, Ted-- _god_ , it, you, ohyes--" Andrew babbled, and thrust harder, and it hurt some but Teddy didn't care just then, for he was too busy watching Andrew come undone.

"That was incredible," mumbled Andrew into Teddy's chest, where he'd collapsed, trapping Teddy's hand and his cock. "Just--being _inside you_ , you know?"

"Mm hm." Teddy put his other arm around Andrew and with an effort rolled them over onto their sides. Andrew's eyelids fluttered open.

"Was it okay for you?"

"I--yeah. Yes." It really _had_ been, even if he hadn't come. Just having had Andrew inside him, being the cause of what had seemed like a brilliant orgasm, had been pretty great.

It hadn't been _enough_ , but it had been good. He reached between their bodies to grip his demanding cock.

Andrew shifted, and Teddy saw a look of realisation cross his face.

"Oh--you didn't--" he said.

"It's all right," replied Teddy, though it wasn't actually _entirely_ all right. "If you--would you just--" Suddenly he found it difficult to make his request.

"What?" asked Andrew.

"Just stay inside me for a minute more," Teddy said all in a rush, and he began jerking his cock, fairly certain he could come quickly, especially with Andrew's cock still in his arse.

Andrew pressed himself to Teddy and laid a lazy trail of kisses all along Teddy's neck while Teddy jerked himself, letting out little grunts and moans, and finally Teddy whispered that he was close, and Andrew used his teeth, then, to scrape the sensitive skin of Teddy's throat, and Teddy swore and came, his seed sticky between their bodies, over his hand, coating his cock and dribbling onto the duvet.

"Ohh," Teddy sighed as he closed his eyes and let go of his cock. Andrew shifted again and Teddy felt a sudden emptiness as Andrew's cock slipped from his hole.

"That was more like it, huh?" Andrew asked softly for a moment, and Teddy chuckled.

"Definitely," he said. He raised his face and gave Andrew a kiss. "We'll have to try it again sometimes," he said.

"Yeah," replied Andrew, stretching. "That was good, but I'm sure we can do better with a little practise." He grinned, and Teddy grinned, too, and nodded, and rolled over so that his back was against Andrew's chest. Andrew slung an arm around him, and they lay spooned together there on Remus's guest bed.

"I could stay like this forever, I think," said Teddy with a yawn.

Andrew nuzzled the back of his neck. "I could, too, except that I'd feel pretty embarrassed when your dad got home." He chuckled softly. "And besides, they'd chuck me off the team--and I don't want that, not when I'm probably going to be made a starter this season."

"Really?" Teddy twisted his head and torso so he could see Andrew's face. "That's brilliant! How come you didn't tell me sooner?"

"It's not definite yet--I wasn't going to say anything until it was, so I wouldn't jinx it--stupid, huh? And anyhow now, I don't know, I feel so good that I almost don't care if I do."

"You won't," said Teddy firmly. "You'll be starter, and you'll be wicked good. I'll come to watch your first match and cheer you on, and I'll bring my dad and Sam and maybe Simon, too. If that's okay?"

"Yeah." Andrew sounded a little doubtful, though.

Teddy kissed him. "Okay. And when Portree wins, we can do whatever you like to celebrate."

Privately Teddy thought that he didn't need to celebrate anything, anymore; he couldn't imagine his life getting any better than this.  



End file.
